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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25133773">Of Clones and Wizards</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zirakinbar/pseuds/Zirakinbar'>Zirakinbar</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Of Clones and Wizards [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossover, Crossovers &amp; Fandom Fusions, Gen, Mass Character Deaths, Minor Character Death, Pong Krell is his own warning, Young Harry Potter, kids in warzones</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:41:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>127,658</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25133773</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zirakinbar/pseuds/Zirakinbar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Combining the Mirror of Erised, the Philosopher’s Stone, and the Killing Curse had some unexpected effects. Clone trooper CT-4387 is left for dead after an attempted ambush on Christophsis and 11-year-old Harry Potter makes himself a family.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Of Clones and Wizards [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1975549</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2025</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2127</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Harry felt as if Devil’s Snare was rooting him to the spot. He couldn’t move a muscle. Petrified, he watched as Quirrell reached up and began to unwrap his turban. What was going on? The turban fell away. Quirrell’s head looked strangely small without it. Then he turned slowly on the spot.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Harry would have screamed, but he couldn’t make a sound. Where there should have been a back to Quirrell’s head, there was a face, the most terrible face Harry had ever seen. It was chalk white with glaring red eyes and slits for nostrils, like a snake.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Harry Potter …” it whispered.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Harry tried to take a step backwards but his legs wouldn’t move.</em>
</p><p>J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone</p><p>…</p><p>He drew himself up a little bit, trying not to shake. The stone was heavy in his pocket, but it was his wand he held onto tightly, the handle already damp with sweat in his hand. “What- What-” he stuttered out and the face smiled mirthlessly.</p><p>“What am I, Harry Potter?” it murmured. “A wraith, a mere shadow of what I once was. Hunted for years… but never gone. A person of my glory can never truly be gone.”</p><p>“Voldemort,” Harry said. He took a stumbling step backwards and another – until he was backed up against the Mirror. <em>Stupid</em> he realised. <em>Stupid, stupid! </em>His only chance was to run but he felt like a mouse under the gaze of a cobra.</p><p>“<em>Yesss</em>,” Voldemort hissed. “Are you going to be smart now, boy? I can <em>see </em>that Stone in your pocket.”</p><p>Harry was shaking now desperately. “You killed my parents,” he said, and Voldemort hissed a laugh.</p><p>“Your parents, yes. They died bravely, boy. But there’s no need for you to die – all you need is to <em>hand that stone over</em>.”</p><p>Spells were tumbling through his head – how to make a pineapple tap dance and a mouse transform and why, oh why hadn’t he learnt anything <em>useful</em>? Maybe, if he-</p><p>His wand snapped out before he’d even finished thinking, a <em>wingardium leviosa </em>lifting Quirrell briefly off his feet. Harry tried to run but was blown backwards with a sharp gesture of a hand, knocking his head against the frame of the mirror.</p><p>“<em>So be it</em>,” Voldemort snarled. “Quirrell, <em>kill him</em>.”</p><p>“Master,” Quirrell cried, but he was already turning obediently, his wand in hand. Harry tried to move, his head spinning – a green jet of light sprung out and he twisted – the mirror exploded – and then.</p><p>Nothing.</p><p>…</p><p>Harry hadn’t got around to expecting much when he opened his eyes again. His head was throbbing with a sickly kind of beat and when he raised his hand to his scar he found that it had split open, blood spilling down his face. He blinked blurrily a few times and patted around a little bit to find his glasses on his chest. Putting them back on he looked around slowly.</p><p>He wasn’t in the chamber any more, was the single thought that pierced his confusion. There was no Quirrell or Voldemort and no mirror either, so all in all he was probably in a better place than he had been. He patted at his pocket and withdrew a handful of red shards – all that was remaining of the Philosopher’s Stone. Well, he supposed. At least that meant Quirrell hadn’t got hold of it?</p><p>He wasn’t in the chamber, but he hadn’t the slightest idea of where he <em>was</em>. Great crystalline stones covered the ground and sharp shards of towers grew out of nowhere, towering up higher than the highest building he’d ever seen. A moon hung in the air, far bigger than he thought it should be, and the light reflecting off it was a deep blue. Was this some kind of – other realm? Some kind of fairy tale?</p><p>He scrabbled for his wand and was grateful to have it tip into his hand, unharmed by the whole – situation. He swallowed a little desperately. Was he by himself? He pushed himself onto his feet and staggered against a nearby wall, surprised at the sharp tilt in his head. Perhaps – perhaps he wasn’t perfectly well, then. He suddenly wished for Madam Pomfrey to be nearby, a brisk scolding ready on her tongue.</p><p>He crept forward slowly, tucked away in the shadows. There were streets – he could tell he was in a city, if not any city he’d ever heard of before. Everything looked undeniably <em>alien</em> and he wondered morbidly if he’d see banshees or werewolves or other creatures come creeping at him.  It was with undeniable caution that he poked his head around a corner and froze.</p><p>It looked as though there’d been a <em>battle </em>here. The streets were cratered and splashes of char were streaked across walls. Metal things lay on the ground, hacked apart and near to them – Harry gulped – near to them were figures in white armour sprawled out on the ground, blood trickling out from various spots. Harry fought back a whimper. Where <em>was </em>he?</p><p>There were little round metal things hovering in the air, floating up and down the streets. Every so often there would be a beeping sound and then a flash of light would hit one of the white figures on the ground, and the smell of burning would go up again. It took Harry a moment, but he nearly vomited when he realised that the – that some of the white figures were still alive and the metal floating things were – were-</p><p><em>Don’t see me, </em>he begged silently. <em>Please don’t see me.</em></p><p>A metal thing floated closer and beeped inquisitively near him. Harry raised a shaking hand with his wand in it. <em>There’s nothing here, there’s nothing here</em>, he repeated silently. It felt like there was a pressure building up in his head, the same way it had felt sometimes when he was younger before he ended up on the roof or when his hair had grown out after Aunt Petunia had cut it all off. There was another beeping sound, and then all at once the thing lost interest and floated off. Harry breathed out shakily.</p><p>It seemed like the metal things had finished their deadly inspection and they floated off into another street. Harry sat down in a rush, trembling overtaking his limbs. He’d almost died twice today. He wanted to be back in Hogwarts, back in his dorm room tucked up in his bed. He almost wanted to be back in his cupboard.</p><p>There was a soft, abbreviated moan and Harry started silently. Where had that come from? He looked around wildly and there – again, a panted breath and the slightest twitch of movement from one of the bodies nearest to him. It had a hole burnt into the side of its waist and another on its leg. Harry debated for a moment. Why hadn’t the floating things killed that one? He glanced around again but there weren’t any in sight, and another pained sound decided him.</p><p>He darted over to the body silently and tried to pull at it but it was much too heavy. All he succeeded in doing was driving a decidedly human-sounding whimper out from the mouthpiece of the figure and Harry chewed at his lip briefly. He could maybe hide in one of the buildings – there were several with the doors blown off. But to do that he needed to be able to <em>move</em> the stupidly heavy person.</p><p>“<em>ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?” </em>Ron shouted in his head and Harry paused. He <em>was </em>a wizard. A quick <em>wingardium leviosa </em>and the person was hovering beside him. From there it was only a few moments’ work to be tucked away in a building. Harry wasn’t quite distracted enough not to spend a moment gawping at the impossible architecture, crystal pillars twisting up and up and <em>up</em> and delicate fountains that sent bright chiming liquid splashing down into deep pools. He’d never seen anything like it. He shook his head firmly and regretted it almost immediately, the spinning sending him lurching forward with a sharp bite of bile on his tongue.</p><p>He wanted – he wanted walls and doors in between him and whatever was out there though. He couldn’t find any door knobs, but a quick <em>alohomora </em>had the doors sliding open without a murmur of complaint. He went deeper and deeper into the building, the floating body accompanying him almost silently. Four doors in he found and bed and with a breath of relief he set the body down. It tossed a little on the impact.</p><p>“Sorry, sorry,” Harry muttered. “I guess – I guess your armour needs to come off. Wounds need to be clean I think.” He hovered closer and looked at the weirdly shaped helmet. Did he just – pull it off? After a moment of hesitation he did so and was relieved to find a very human looking face beneath it. “Don’t know what I expected,” he breathed out. At least it wasn’t another snake face staring at him. He didn’t think he could have dealt with that.</p><p>Brown eyes blinked at him but didn’t seem to comprehend anything, and Harry moved to looking at the rest of the armour. It took him long moments to figure out the clasps and longer moments to actually manage to pry it off the man but in time he was facing nothing but a black body suit that had Harry frowning at it. It didn’t look easy to get off – perhaps if he just cut around the material near the wounds? They were big gaping marks that had him cringing in sympathy, but little blood was oozing from them – as if they’d been cauterised.</p><p>What now? He’d seen Madam Pomfrey waving her wand over little things – broken noses and scratches, “<em>Episkey,” </em>falling from her mouth in steady chant. Would that work on something like this? Harry supposed it couldn’t do much more harm now. He frowned at the wounds and clenched his wand.</p><p>“<em>Episkey</em>,” he said firmly. Nothing happened. He wanted to cry. “<em>Episkey,” </em>he repeated determinedly. Had there been a little creeping of healthy skin there? “<em>Episkey, episkey, episkey,</em>” he repeated desperately, over and over again. It felt like there was magic in the air – like the wounds were slowly creeping back together, a healthier colour sneaking onto the man’s face. Maybe he was imagining it, but he kept on chanting the word until finally, exhaustion creeping over him, he fell flat onto his face next to the man. His eyes slowly closed themselves and he thought – just a brief moment, just a quick nap and then he could get up and try again.</p><p>…</p><p>Clone Trooper CT-4387 came to consciousness abruptly. <em>Unarmoured, </em>he categorised first, and then <em>unarmed. </em>Problematic. <em>Bed, not ground. Body in – decent working order? Infirmary perhaps. Objective ambush at Christophsis – failed? Droid army anticipated strike. Commanding officer down. Commanding Jedi down. Retreat to base ordered. Hit twice, compromised. Triage in place. Injured to be abandoned.</em></p><p>He hadn’t been abandoned though. He allowed himself a careful frown. This what not what they’d been trained to do.</p><p>The bed he was lying on was soft though, and he allowed himself another few second to collapse into it. Sit-rep necessary though. There was something warm curled up against him and he moved his head slowly to look down at it. The frown came back onto his face.</p><p>It was a little human – a male child. <em>Much </em>too young to be present in a warzone. The capital had been evacuated though. Had the boy been left behind? He looked a mess with blood covering half his face from an open wound on his head, wearing an oddly designed set of clothes. Civilians did always wear the oddest things. Why would the medics leave him with an injury though, when they’d patched CT-4387 up – he spared a glance to where he’d been shot and let his eyebrows fly into his hairline at the smooth skin. When they’d patched CT-4387 up <em>impressively</em> well?</p><p>He shifted, and the boy’s eyes flew open to reveal the brightest green he’d ever seen. They stared at each other for a long moment and then the boy’s face crumpled in relief. He opened his mouth and an incomprehensible stream of babble came out.</p><p>“Uh,” CT-4387 said. “You speak Basic there, kid?”</p><p>The kid did not, it seemed, speak Basic. CT-4387’s training had not covered this.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>CT-4387 stared at the kid. The kid stared back. He looked a bit disorientated – pupils a bit too wide, and that was without starting on the fact that his face looked a murder scene by itself, blood slathered all the way down to his neck. CT-4387 nodded to himself. “Right, we’re going to need to get that patched up,” he said decisively. The assault had failed to the best of his knowledge, no one had assigned him other orders in the meantime, which meant he was back onto the default commands – protect civilians, protect the Republic and serve the war effort as appropriate.</p><p>“Don’t suppose you spotted the medic that patched me up, hey kid?” he asked, and the kid cocked his head to one side, just like a little tooka. He said something back a faint scowl on his face, and tried to push CT-4387 back onto the bed.</p><p>“Woah, hey,” CT-4387 said firmly. “I think out of the two of us, it’s definitely you that needs to be lying down.”</p><p>The boy’s scowl didn’t fade, and his eyes flickered down to the holes in CT-4387’s bodysuit. He said something that sounded distinctly sarcastic, and CT-4387 let a hand cover it briefly. He poked at the skin hesitantly – nope, felt as though he hadn’t ever had a scratch there. Unlike some beings he could mention who were now swaying slightly from side to side.</p><p>“Only one of us probably has a concussion and I don’t think it’s me,” CT-4387 grumbled. “Kriff kid, it’s like <em>you’re </em>the medic here.”</p><p>Now that he said that, though – he took a slower look around the room. No one else around. Looked like one of the Christophsian buildings; maybe a hotel room. Certainly fancier than anywhere <em>he’d</em> ever stayed. If they’d repurposed it for an infirmary though, he’d have brothers swarming in and out. There were definitely more injured than just him around. He cast the kid a slow considerate look.</p><p>“Don’t suppose you know how we ended up here?” he asked rhetorically. If he could find his armour – and there, just thrown on the floor with no respect. CT-4387’s stopped his lips from turning down in disapproval with a bit of effort. He’d definitely have to have a word with whoever got him here, after he’d thanked them.</p><p>“Alright then,” he sighed, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. The kid squawked like a tubie who’d just been decanted and CT-4387 put a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Lie down,” he said firmly. “You’re injured.”</p><p>The kid did not lie down. CT-4387 could foresee how this was going to go.</p><p>He reached out for his bucket first, sighing a little in relief as the HUD powered on. A faint crackling indicated that the comms had shorted out and he grimaced. Just his luck. He reached out automatically to strap on the rest of his armour – and he paused a little, letting out a soft whistle at the melted plas-steel. “Guess that did hit me as hard as I thought it did,” he breathed. Nonetheless, he clicked it into place piece by piece feeling a bit more reassured when he was fully encased. The kid didn’t look particularly happy about it though, staring at his visor with a wrinkle in his nose. CT-4387 couldn’t stop himself from reaching out to poke him on that nose, and chuckled at the look of deep offense he was given.</p><p>“Right, little tooka,” he said firmly. “I’m going to look for a medic and a med-kit. You’re going to stay right here.”</p><p>The kid gabbled something in panic, reaching out for CT-4387’s arm to drag him back. He’s hands were gesticulating wildly before he stilled and looked at CT-4387 for a reaction. The sight of his helmet obviously did not inspire any confidence because he tried again, drawing big circles in the air before making blaster sounds while pointing at CT-4387.</p><p>“Droids?” CT-4387 hazarded a guess. The kid made another ‘pew-pew’ sound, pointing to him, and then a motion that looked like a neck being slit.</p><p>“Killer droids,” CT-4387 sighed. Poor kid. “Yeah, I know. I’ll be careful. But you,” and he pointed to the kid, “are going to stay there,” pointing to the bed, “while I go searching. Ten minutes.” He held up all ten fingers and the kid squinted at him before finally giving up and flopping back on the bed. He looked pasty underneath all that blood and CT-4387 regretted that he hadn’t had anything outside the most basic of first aid training.</p><p>He moved towards the door and frowned as it didn’t slide open. The control was on the side but when he palmed it, it didn’t seem to do much. Behind him, the kid muttered something and finally it chimed green and he was able to move out. He turned to eye the kid carefully – he had some sort of control for the door? That was good; any security was better than none at this time. He rapped four times to indicate that that was the pattern he’d be using on his return and moved out.</p><p>Initial sit-rep seemed right; the building had wide corridors with regimented doors peeking out. Almost definitely a hotel. He moved into another corridor and swore softly as he came up against another locked door. He managed to prise the control panel open, and a quick rewiring had the door opening for him. The feeling of unease grew. If this had been taken over by his brothers then all the doors would have been propped open and there would have been noise – there always was when you crammed a battalion into any space. There was no one though. Just him and the kid sat back in their room.</p><p>Another door took him past what looked like a restaurant and finally he was out into a lobby. Crystalline fountains poured down the sides from an arch that seemed to stretch up for miles. Typical civvie waste, he thought sardonically. There was a receptionist’s desk though it looked long abandoned, and a quick check found a very basic med-kit stored beneath the surface. It’d do for the moment. He hesitated for a second, and then drew up his resolve – just a quick check, just to see what the outside situation was like. He’d be back for the kid soon.</p><p>He checked on his back-up weapons – his main blaster was gone, obviously, but he had a vibro-blade tucked into his left boot that he let settle into his hand. He paused for a second and decided to leave the kit on the desk.</p><p>CT-4387 felt as though he had a bright red target painted on his bucket when he moved outside – the place was deadly quiet and stank of recent blaster-fire and explosions. No droids but – oh, oh sithspit, his brothers were lying discarded all over the ground. He swallowed roughly and moved to check them over but his infra-red was already telling him it was a waste of time. Most of them looked like they’d taken an executioner’s shot – already down on the ground and then something had decided to finish them off. “Pew-pew,” he muttered grimly to himself. “What a shitshow this assault was.” He’d thought the Jedi were supposed to be better generals than this.</p><p>Respect for his brothers didn’t stop him pulling a blaster off CT-4392’s body – and a back up off CT-4410. They’d <em>grown up </em>together. Fourteen years he’d spent with his batch brothers and they just- were gone. Just like that. He pressed a hand against his bucket and breathed deeply. He needed to get back to the kid. He grabbed a few more blaster cartridges, tucking them away neatly, along with some ration bars out of the belts, and folded CT-410’s arms together to let him – let him rest a bit more peacefully.</p><p>“Just me and the kid then,” he said quietly. “Okay then. We’ll work this out I guess.”</p><p>He turned to head back in, snatching up the med-kit and moving swiftly back the way he’d come. Four raps on the door had it sliding open silently and the kid was still sat on the bed, green eyes wide open and a look of utter relief on his face that he’d chosen to come back. CT-4387 hunched up a little. He didn’t think anyone had ever looked at him like that before.</p><p>“Okay, little tooka,” he said, forcing a note of cheer into his voice. He thought it fell flat after seeing – after seeing his brothers, but the kid didn’t seem to notice. “Let’s get you cleaned up, hey?”</p><p>The kid watched silently as he pulled a few wet wipes out, and then whimpered slightly as he cleaned up his face. “Hey,” CT-4387 said gently. “Not as bad as it looked, right?” Most of the blood seemed to have come from a lightning-bolt shaped wound over his left eye, though there were a few small cuts on his cheekbone. “You had me worried kid, you looked like someone had tried to scalp you.”</p><p>The kid offered him a weak smile, seeming to recognise that he was trying to reassure him. A tiny slip of bacta on a sticking pad over the eye and they were done. “I shoulda been a medic,” CT-4387 said with a little nudge to the kid’s shoulder. Speaking of though – there was no one else here, so the only person who could have patched him up was the kid. There wasn’t any medical gear around though, so – maybe it hadn’t been as bad as he’d thought? A glance down at his armour disproved that thought before it could go any further.</p><p>“Okay, now names,” CT-4387 said. “Don’t think I can keep calling you kid.” He paused and frowned a little. “Or maybe I can.” Either way, he pointed to himself firmly. “CT-4387.” The kid blinked, and CT-4387 repeated it again patiently.</p><p>“Sete- seetefer?” the kid managed before staring at him plaintively.</p><p>“CT-4387.”</p><p>“Sefertethri?”</p><p>CT-4387 hummed. This wasn’t going to work. CT4? Nah. He tested out a couple of configurations in his head before he pointed to himself again. “Seefer,” he said and the kid breathed a sigh of relief.</p><p>“Seefer,” he agreed.</p><p>“Okay, now you,” he said. The kid blinked down at his finger.</p><p>“Hari-po’er?” he offered and CT-4387 nodded to himself.</p><p>“Hari-po’er,” he repeated confidently and the kid giggled and shook his head.</p><p>“<em>Ha</em>ri-<em>po</em>-tar,” he tried and CT-4387 squinted at him.</p><p>“That isn’t what you said the first time,” he grumbled, and repeated. “<em>Ha</em>ri-<em>po</em>-tar.”</p><p>“Harry,” the kid said in sympathy.</p><p>“Harry,” CT-4387 repeated and the kid clapped. CT-4387 felt like he was being humoured. “Cheeky brat,” he muttered and the kid – Harry – grinned at him.</p><p>“Well Harry,” CT-4387 said. “We’re in a nice mess here, aren’t we? Behind enemy lines, comms out, no reinforcement coming. Not even the <em>cuy’val dar</em> set us scenarios this bad to work through. Maybe they should have.” He pulled out a ration bar and offered it to the kid, following it with a hydro-pack. He removed his own helmet to eat and didn’t miss the way Harry’s bony little shoulders relaxed when they could see his face again. “Don’t suppose you feel like telling me how you ended up getting me away from the battlefield do you?” he asked casually. “Or that neat job of healing you managed on me, how that worked? I’d love to see that in some of our infirmaries kid, you’d make an absolute fortune.”</p><p>Harry said something back that CT-4387 chose to interpret as a “<em>get lost</em>” and CT-4387 sighed heavily. “No, didn’t think you’d share like that.”</p><p>His ration bar finished, Harry let out a little yawn, listing slightly to the side. CT-4837 pulled the covers on the bed back and Harry muttered something in protest, sounding like nothing more than one of the cadets trying to sneak out of curfew. CT-4387 solved it the same way he’d solved it for the younger brothers, sweeping Harry up and forcibly tucking him with a decidedly smug look on his face. Harry let out a noise of protest and flailed slightly, but his exhaustion caught up fast enough. <em>Just like a tubie, </em>CT-4387 thought, fond despite himself as the kid’s breath evened out into sleep.</p><p>Now, he needed to find a holo-net connection and hope to all that was mighty that the Seppies hadn’t enforced a total comms blackout. He didn’t fancy his chances.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry woke up feeling – not <em>comfortable</em> exactly, but a little bit less like the whole world had collapsed around him. Everything was blurry, and he rustled around a bit for his glasses which had apparently fallen off his face while he slept. A quick tap to his pocket confirmed that his wand was still there.</p><p>Seefer was bent over something to the side of the bed, tapping away intently at a screen. <em>Good</em>, Harry thought. He was still here. He’d been – not worried, exactly, when the man had headed outside but – well, he’d only just patched him together and there he was running all over the place where he could have been hurt.</p><p>Okay, he conceded to himself after another moment’s thought. Maybe he’d also been worried about the fact that he had no idea where he was, what he was doing or even if – if Voldemort was still out there. He’d never seen anything like this place before but he was pretty certain this wasn’t Earth. Maybe a fairy realm or something? No one had ever told him anything like this was possible and Seefer was the only friendly face he’d seen.</p><p>The man was watching him now. He wasn’t old – at least, not old like the professors. He looked maybe in his late twenties and he certainly didn’t look anything like a wizard in his bright white armour. Harry frowned a little at the holes burnt into the plating. Maybe he should offer to fix it? But what if he was a muggle? They weren’t supposed to show magic to muggles and he didn’t want to get expelled or something.</p><p>He might be being stupid, he thought glumly. It hadn’t looked like there was a way back – he didn’t know how long ago it was. It was probably better to be alive and expelled than – well, than not alive. Maybe if he went back, though, he could see if there was still – what, a big gaping portal hole where he’d come through?</p><p>Seefer said something and Harry blinked at him owlishly, tilting his head to one side in a way that made the man chuckle. What was that about? He said something else, waving the screen in his hand around invitingly. Harry took it off him and stared at it dubiously. It looked a little bit like one of the computer screens that Dudley had had, but slicker, minimalist and crisp with symbols scrawled all over it that Harry could not for the life of him decipher. He turned it upside down to see if it made more sense that way before shrugging and handing it back to Seefer.</p><p>“Sorry,” he said, chewing on his lip a little. “I don’t know what you want me to do with this.”</p><p>Seefer made a sound and pressed a button. The screen flashed up a red message that had him frowning. He made a circular gesture, like he was asking Harry to say something else. “Um,” he said. “Do you want me to talk? It doesn’t seem very helpful right now. I don’t know what language you were speaking.”</p><p>The screen beeped again and Seefer made a sound of frustration, tossing it onto the bed. He looked at Harry and then shrugged, a wry smile on his face as if to say “<em>what can you do?”</em> Harry shrugged back and then jerked away a little as Seefer ruffled his hair. What the- he <em>kept on touching him</em>. It was weird. No adults did that around him.</p><p>Seefer said something else and Harry stared at him. The man patted his stomach a little and then pulled out one of the bars he’d shoved at Harry the night before. He repeated the question slowly, enunciating clearly. Did that – maybe it meant hungry? Harry repeated it slowly and was rewarded with another hair ruffle and the bar being pushed into his hands.</p><p>“This is going to be a very slow way to learn a language,” Harry said dubiously as he took a bite. He paused and grimaced in a way that had Seefer laughing softly. “Don’t,” Harry whined at him. “Ugh, that is <em>disgusting</em>.” He hadn’t noticed last night but the bar tasted of nothing so much as cardboard with a hint of plastic. Harry forced it down anyway before freezing for a second.</p><p>Eating in a fairy realm – that stuck you there didn’t it? He glanced up at Seefer desperately and the man frowned back at him, seemingly confused. Harry didn’t <em>think</em> that he was being tricked and he’d eaten before anyway. He swallowed a little grimly. He should trace his steps back and see if there was – was anything to get home. He didn’t want to be stuck here.</p><p>Seefer made a sound of concern as Harry forced himself to his feet, moving quickly to hover a hand behind his back and Harry paused. “I’m feeling much better, really,” he said sincerely. “Thanks though.” He tried to move towards the door and was very firmly pushed back to sit on the bed. “I’m just going to-” Harry protested, gesturing a little. Seefer did not look impressed.</p><p>After a moment, the man raised a finger and grabbed the screen again. A few taps had an image on screen – metal things with beams of lights shooting out of their arms. Harry swallowed. “<em>Droids</em>,” Seefer said firmly and gestured widely as if to indicate they were all around them</p><p>Another few taps brought up an image of the skyscrapers outside, and then a map. Harry leant over the screen in fascination. Seefer pointed to them both, and then to a location. “<em>Us,”</em> he said. He traced out a route that led them out of the city and Harry tried to memorise it. A firm tap on his shoulder brought his attention back to Seefer. “<em>You</em>,” a finger pointed to Harry, then “<em>Follow,” </em>two fingers, like they were walking, <em>“Me”. </em>A final finger pointed back at Seefer. “<em>Okay?”</em> Seefer said, nodded his head strongly up and down.</p><p>Harry nodded back cautiously, and then tried to repeat the last word. He thought it was an affirmative. That earned him a clasp on the shoulder that had him feeling oddly reassured. He squinted back at the map and tried to recall where he’d come from last night. It hadn’t been far – just out of the door, right and then right down a side street. He held his own hand in a stop sign that had Seefer pause while looking at him. “Can we- go here?” he asked, tapping on the side street. “First?”</p><p>The man squinted down at the map and then at him. Harry widened his eyes pleadingly. “Please?” he asked, and Seefer sighed through his nose. “<em>Okay,” </em>he said, and then a stream of other words that Harry didn’t even bother to try and decipher.</p><p>Seefer pushed something into his hands and Harry blinked at it. It looked – almost like a toy plastic gun. He twisted it up to look at the barrel inquisitively and Seefer snatched it back quickly, his eyes wide. There was another stream of words, and then he crossed his arms in a big “x” shape while shaking his head. “<em>No</em>,” Seefer said very firmly. He handed the gun back to Harry and adjusted his grip to make sure it was pointing at the ground. “<em>No-“ </em>and some other words as he pretended to move the barrel around.</p><p>“Don’t point it at anyone,” Harry said cautiously. “<em>Okay</em>.”</p><p>Seefer sighed heavily but didn’t take the gun back. There was a little catch at the back that he showed Harry how to flip backwards and forwards and then it was very firmly pushed into the red zone that Harry assumed meant “off”. Harry would have much preferred to have his wand in his hand, but this seemed to be what Seefer needed to allow them both to move cautiously out of the room. Harry tried to move up beside Seefer but was pushed backwards with a stern look before the man put his creepy looking helmet back on. Harry <em>really</em> didn’t like not being able to see his face.</p><p>The place was still as strange-looking as he remembered, the big blue moon still hanging high in the sky and casting long shadows in the dim light. It had either been no time at all since they’d been out here, or a full day – Harry suspected the latter. The white armoured figures were scattered across the ground and Harry let out a little noise of pain as he looked up at Seefer. They’d – they’d all been <em>people</em> under those helmets, and those floating <em>‘droid’ </em>things had just killed them.</p><p>Seefer’s shoulders were stiff under his armour as he gestured them both into the shadows at the sides of the street. Harry went obediently – and yes, he recognised this from the night before. There was blood on the ground from where he must have fallen and shards of glass tossed across the ground. Seefer had his head turned towards him but Harry couldn’t pay attention as he almost fell towards the ground, his hands searching desperately for – he didn’t know what. There was nothing, whatever he’d expected, only his own blood and a few pieces of what was left of the Mirror of Erised. His shoulders fell in despair and he let out a little sobbing sound.</p><p>He was jerked back to the moment by Seefer wrapping a long arm around him, tucking him into an armoured shoulder briefly. Harry breathed shakily there, and then swallowed determinedly. “You’re very uncomfortable,” he whispered quietly, before pushing himself away. “We should go now.”</p><p>That helmet looked at him for long moments, and Harry leant into the hand that clasped the back of his neck. “<em>Follow me</em>,” Seefer said and Harry nodded. Wasn’t like there was much choice now. He didn’t have anywhere to go.</p><p>Seefer’s armour seemed to glow in the night as they trekked out quietly. Harry wondered briefly why he’d picked such an obvious colour – but all the other figures had worn the same, so maybe he hadn’t had a choice.</p><p>There was – noise, a mechanical voice sounding out, and Harry was shoved into a doorway. Seefer had his gun – something much bigger than the little thing he’d given Harry – pointed out in front him. A clanking sound, metal grinding against stone and something twice as big as a man came rounding the corner. Light came bursting out of Seefer’s gun, splattering against the metal – it didn’t seem to be going down. Harry fumbled at the latch on his little gun and let it spill out beside the blasts from Seefer.</p><p>More noise – more big metal figures, Seefer grabbed the back of Harry’s robe as one of them went down and pulled him into a run down a street. Harry pelted after him as fast as he could. They rounded a corner, came up to a bridge – Seefer let out a loud shout of despair when he saw an explosion had taken out the arch. He picked up Harry anyway and threw him across the space and Harry landed in a crumpled heap, scrambling up to his feet – he dropped the gun and grabbed his wand out of his pocket. Was this – were they going to-?</p><p>Seefer turned around to face the coming <em>droids</em> and Harry felt his blood run cold as he realised that Seefer was going to – he was going to stay there and fight. No, no, <em>no</em>, he wasn’t going to let that happen!</p><p>By now <em>wingardium leviosa </em>felt almost second nature as he floated Seefer across the gap, the man flailing in surprise. Harry didn’t leave him much time to recover, pulling him to behind a pile of rubble and then remembering what it had felt like before – that concentrated <em>there’s no one here, there’s no one here</em>. Seefer stayed tense, his gun out, but Harry forced his hand away from the trigger as he kept his eyes scrunched closed.</p><p><em>No one here, no one here</em> he willed, and tried to ignore the little supporting droids that came to investigate. Seefer was watching him, looking like he wanted nothing more to go on a mad charge out to draw their attention – but he didn’t, he stayed there.</p><p>The <em>droids </em>let out little negative sounds and they retreated to continue the search. Harry let himself collapse backwards, snatched up by Seefer’s arms. He felt shaky, and he could only manage a weak little smile when Seefer stared down at him and breathed out a surprised, “<em>Jedi</em>.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Seefer was struggling a little to stay calm. <em>Yes</em>, their training had focused on “expect the unexpected”. <em>Yes, </em>he knew that wars were where plans went to die. Even so – and he cast a look at where Harry was trying hard not to flag, <em>whatever </em>he had done apparently having exhausted him – even so, he hadn’t expected to be abandoned on his second damned mission with a baby Jedi in tow.</p><p><em>Protecting Harry</em> had already been high on his priority list – that’s what they were supposed to do, protect the civilians and protect the Republic. Now though, now that he knew Harry was one of the Jedi that he and his brothers had been made for… Well, he actually wanted to know which Jedi master he had to murder for bringing a baby cadet onto a battlefield. Harry was holding together very well for his age but he was just a <em>tubie</em>, barely ready for simulation testing. The stick he was holding tightly looked like nothing so much as a toy weapon, the kind used to make cadets remember where to put their hands. Weren’t Jedi supposed to have lightsabers?</p><p>Untrained, abandoned by his master, <em>not</em> properly armed <em>or </em>armoured and not even speaking Basic! Seefer was growing increasingly disillusioned with the Jedi leadership. He’d be looking to have Words with his own General, but Jedi Knight Veshk’kri had gone down in a pile of droids in the first push of their ambush. That had been where everything had started to go wrong.</p><p>He scowled underneath his helmet, tapping irritably at the infra-red to see if there was anything he could refocus on. The streets seemed empty though, the droids having gone chasing off somewhere to the west after Harry had done… whatever he had done. The kid had just squinted, his face screwing up in concentration and then it was like… like the droids couldn’t even see them. Not a bad trick.</p><p>He supposed he had bigger concerns than whether or not the Jedi were throwing their kids around into warzones with abandon (just a <em>baby</em>!) He hadn’t seen a single living brother since he’d fallen in battle yesterday. While he’d got the datapad working, it had only connected to the local intranet, accessing a general map and not much else – not even the translator had worked with whatever language Harry spoke, flashing up a bright red error message twice. On top of that Seefer didn’t have a clue where his brothers would have set up base – or whether they’d given up on the planet as a bad job and retreated.</p><p>“Kriffing <em>disaster</em>,” he muttered and then shook his head as Harry looked at him, eyes big behind those stupid glass lenses he had balanced on his nose. “Not you,” he corrected. “Although those things,” and he poked the lenses, “Are going to get you an eyeful of glass in a bad moment. We need to sort those out.”</p><p>Harry grumpily slapped his hand down and fixed the glasses back straight. “No,” the kid said firmly and crossed his arms. Seefer laughed.</p><p>“Shoulda guessed that you’d learn that one fast enough,” he said. “Typical <em>adiik</em>, right – contrary to the last.”</p><p>Harry looked suspicious and Seefer shook his head. “All good kid, all good,” he said.</p><p>According to the map he’d managed to access, they should be coming to the city border soon enough. Seefer wasn’t entirely certain of the sensible next steps. He knew the surroundings – reasonably well. He’d done his research, as much as CT-4333 had mocked him for it. He grimaced a little under his helmet. He wouldn’t have to worry about being mocked by his brothers for a while now.</p><p>Harry was frowning at him lightly now and he attempted a smile at the kid. Jedi could sense emotions, right? He should probably try to be a bit more balanced. The kid just blinked at him slowly before reaching up to knock twice on his shoulder – the same reassurance he’d given Harry earlier that day. Seefer’s smile was a bit more genuine as he reached out to pat the kid on his head. Jedi or not, the kid was trying hard to help out. The only time he’d seen Harry genuinely distressed was when they took that detour into a little side street – the kid stretching out his hands as if looking for something, nothing but blood and glass on the ground. He wondered a bit morbidly if that had been where the kid’s master had been taken down.</p><p>Seefer drew up a little, pulling them into a doorway. “Okay, sit-rep,” he said. He mostly wanted to talk himself through what they had to do – that’s how he’d always worked things out with his batch-mates. “We have… two blasters, because you had to go drop the one I gave you kid.” Harry eyed him as if he knew he was being criticised.</p><p>“We have – one set of armour, partially damaged. I shoulda grabbed one of my brothers’ sets.” He – he just <em>couldn’t </em>bring himself to strip a brother out of his shell though. It felt <em>wrong</em> to leave them dead and naked. “We have ration bars for another three days. We have six cartridges for the blasters which should last us – mostly okay.” He frowned at the kid. “Those things you’re wearing don’t look much like Jedi robes kid, and they <em>also </em>don’t look much like armour. Who let you into a warzone wearing those?”</p><p>Harry scowled back at him and said something sharp. Seefer decided to nod solemnly and pat him on the head again which had the kid hissing – the resemblance to a tooka kept on coming up. It was a bit cute.</p><p>“We don’t know where reinforcements are,” Seefer continued solemnly. “We don’t know where the nearest path off-planet is. We are surrounded by enemies on all sides. The enemies will <em>really </em>want to kill a baby Jedi.” He frowned a little at Harry and wondered if he could tuck him under his shoulder a bit more protectively. If he found another one of his brothers, he decided abruptly, then he could try to strap the armour onto Harry. It wouldn’t fit anywhere near right but <em>something</em> was better than the <em>nothing</em> he had now.</p><p>“It’s possible,” Seefer concluded, “That we are in deep, deep <em>osik</em> Harry.”</p><p>Harry looked at him slowly. “Okay,” he said, and Seefer snorted.</p><p>“Well, you’ve got that one down too, kid,” he said. He shook his head, and poked at the hole in his armour. He’d nearly died once already and now he was being expected to protect something – <em>someone</em> – much more important. He wished he had his brothers.</p><p>Harry put a hand over the hole solemnly and looked up at him. Seefer shrugged and the kid raised his little piece of wood. “<em>Reparo,</em>” he said firmly, and Seefer froze as his armour twitched and rippled and then – <em>twisted</em> back together.</p><p>“Okay,” he said. “<em>That</em> one’s new.”</p><p>Harry frowned at him and tapped the piece of wood a few times thoughtfully. He nodded, then said something else and Seefer swore softly as a crystalline blue, the same shade as their surroundings, began to slink over the white. He laughed a little. “Going for the camouflage then, kid?” he asked. He’d never seen a Jedi do anything like that before – but maybe they just hadn’t thought it worth the time? It wasn’t like many of them had spent a lot of time around any of the brothers, too busy penned up with their comms stations trying to get orders from the Council or whatever they were doing.</p><p>“Alright, how about you?” Seefer asked when it looked like Harry wasn’t going to do anything else.</p><p>Harry tilted his head again, and Seefer tweaked his ear. “You,” he repeated firmly, pointing at the kid.</p><p>“<em>Oh,</em>” Harry said, and then frowned. The kid looked like he was focusing and his clothes began to switch colour slowly. He looked up when he was done, as if expecting something, and Seefer obligingly messed up the kid’s hair. It didn’t really need messing up – it was a bird’s nest by itself, but there was something oddly satisfying about the look of pleased confusion the kid got whenever it happened.</p><p>“Okay, so recap on the sit-rep,” Seefer said. “Armour in one piece, basic camouflage in place. Armed, accompanied by a baby Jedi who can do all sorts of strange things.” He nodded solemnly at Harry. “Guess we’re as good as it’s going to get, hey?”</p><p>“Okay,” Harry said again and Seefer laughed.</p><p>“Let’s move out then,” he said, moving back out to the streets. “I think we can make a run for it and get out to the shard forests if we’re fast. I’ll be a lot happier when we’re out of droid central.”</p><p>“No droid,” Harry said, eyes worried and Seefer nodded in agreement.</p><p>“<em>Exactly</em>. No droids, Harry.”</p><p>Their luck held mostly, and Seefer only had to press them back into various doorways and buildings three times as they slunk out of the city. It felt almost like the droids were wilfully overlooking them, and Seefer wondered if it had to do with – with whatever Harry had been so focused on when they were crouched behind rubble, the droids floating closer and closer to them.</p><p>He brought them to a stop again when they came to what looked like a standpoint. There were – a couple of his brothers on the ground and he took a slow few breaths. No droids though, and Seefer kept his hands steady as he knelt over one brother to strip him out of his chest plate. Harry made a noise of protest and Seefer tapped his lips briefly to keep him quiet. “Any of my brothers would be happy to give their armour up for a Jedi,” he said firmly. “And <em>especially</em> for a baby Jedi who should be back running training sessions with his batch mates.”</p><p>He dropped the chest plate over Harry’s skinny shoulders and frowned at him. It gaped down almost to his knees, and Seefer grimaced. Harry stared back up at him and chewed on his lower lip for a second. “Okay,” he said after a few moments, shrugging off the blue robe type thing he had on.  His forehead scrunched back into that focusing face he had whenever he was – using the Force, or whatever the Jedi did. The armour rippled slightly and the chest plate resized until it was snug on Harry’s shoulders.</p><p>“<em>Kriff me</em>,” Seefer breathed. “This Force is just a damned miracle worker, isn’t it? Good work kiddo.” If he could resize the chest plate though, that meant the rest of the armour was fair game. Seefer tried not to snicker at the distressed sound Harry made as he was loaded down with the other armour pieces. It all shrank down in turn though, leaving Harry looking like a proper little cadet in his shiny armour.</p><p> It just left- and Seefer grimaced. “Sorry brother,” he muttered, and he was gentle as he removed his brother’s helmet. There was another sound from Harry and he looked horrified – staring between Seefer and his bare-faced brother.</p><p>“I know,” Seefer said wryly. “Just like me, huh? That’s what me and my brothers are for though kid.” He swallowed a little and tipped the helmet onto Harry’s head. “Now let’s just get that resized and you’ll be a proper little brother ready for battle.”</p><p>After a moment the helmet began to shrink. It ended up a bit loose and Seefer frowned for a second before realising it had to accommodate for those horrendous glass lenses on Harry’s nose. “Going to need to work that one out at some point,” he muttered, and straightened the helmet a little. “Blue again?” he asked, and tapped his own armour to make the colour difference clear.</p><p>The armour switched colour – this time it was almost a smooth <em>flick</em> compared to the ragged creeping that had taken place earlier. Harry tried to find a place to stick his little piece of wood, ending up tucking it into the utility belt. Another second and he hurried over to his discarded blue robe, pulling something out of his pocket and sticking it into one of the hip pouches. “Good work,” Seefer said firmly, knocking Harry’s shoulder.</p><p>“Good work,” Harry repeated back, his voice echoing from within his helmet. Seefer grinned.</p><p>“Now let’s get <em>out </em>of this hole of a city,” he said. “If we head out west for a few hours we should hit a satellite town and there’s a chance that there might still be a shuttle or two hanging around for refugees. Sounds good?”</p><p>“Good,” Harry repeated and Seefer nodded.</p><p>“All agreed then.” Just him and his baby Jedi. They’d work it out.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry wasn’t certain – exactly – how long they’d been out of the city when Seefer finally decided they were okay to rest somewhere for more than a few hours at a time. They’d originally been headed out to what looked like another group of buildings, but Seefer had changed direction rapidly on seeing what looked like a whole <em>legion</em> of metal marching <em>droids</em> come swarming out of the city. Since then they’d just been – moving. He’d definitely had snatches of a few hours of sleep here and there, and even kept watch a few times as Seefer had given into the need of his own body.</p><p>The more he saw of this place the sicker he felt. There were no plants that he could see, and the whole place was just shades of blue-purple-grey, sometimes matt and sometimes crystalline, flickering in the sunlight when it rose. Every so often they’d see flying metal ships in the distance, heading out from the city, and once or twice Seefer had forced him flat to the ground, half-tucking him beneath his armpit.</p><p>It wasn’t like it was just a hidden city, like Diagon Alley – it was increasingly clear that he was somewhere far, far away from where he’d been. When they’d been far enough away for the light pollution of the city to fade into something intangible and the stars had come out Harry had spent long enough staring up at the sky to realise that he didn’t recognise a single constellation. This wasn’t an… alternative Earth or something, this was a whole different planet.</p><p>Harry didn’t know what was going on. He hadn’t known what was going on since he saw Quirrell standing in front of the Mirror of Erised, but this – this wasn’t Earth and it was so, so big. The only human he’d seen was Seefer and the- the dead body with Seefer’s face that his helmet had been pulled off. His twin maybe? Ever so often when Seefer had his helmet pulled off there’d be a lost look on his face and Harry’s gut would clench in sympathy. He felt lost too. If only he could <em>understand</em> what Seefer was saying.</p><p>He was picking up words slowly, Seefer miming things out as they walked but – well, it was hard. He was pretty sure the word for wizard was a <em>Jedi</em> though, from the way Seefer had so solemnly repeated it to him when he’d pulled out his limited set of spells. There’d been something about <em>Force </em>too, and Seefer was a <em>clone</em> which Harry guessed meant some kind of soldier.</p><p>Seefer had his helmet pulled off and was refilling his little plastic packs with water that was trickling down from one of the largest crystals. Harry chewed on his lip in worry. They were – they were probably going to run out of food soon. It wasn’t like there were cafés or something just hanging around here and those cardboard bar things could only last so long. Harry hadn’t seen anything that looked likely eating though, and the only animals he’d seen were scuttling lizards, racing between cracks in the ground.</p><p>Maybe they could hunt them? Harry didn’t particularly <em>want</em> to eat lizards but starving sounded pretty bad too. He scrubbed a little at his glasses to clean them up and angled his way towards one of the bigger cracks. Seefer eyed him, but didn’t say anything. He just needed to wait – just like waiting for a snitch – and <em>there</em>. Harry snatched one off the ground quickly and then froze. What was he supposed to do now? He juggled the animal from hand to hand. Seefer was nearly crying with laughter, flopping down on the ground.</p><p><em>Fine</em>, Harry thought. If that was how it was going to be… He moved quickly towards the man and dropped the lizard at the back of his neck. Seefer bolted upright and the lizard promptly bolted downwards – straight into his body suit.</p><p>“<em>Kriffing – kid, you-” </em>Seefer flailed his way out and at the end of it they were both staring at a very dead, very squashed looking animal. It didn’t look very appetising. Harry poked at it a few times and then pulled out his wand to conjure some bluebell flames, a sight that no longer made Seefer startle in surprise.</p><p>“<em>Hungry?</em>” Seefer asked and Harry scowled at him.</p><p>“<em>No</em>,” he said sullenly. “Maybe I should make you eat it.”</p><p>Seefer had a little knife and between them they roasted the lizard over the flames, rotating it ever so often. Harry was right about the taste. It wasn’t very appetising, but it took a little bit of tension out of Seefer’s face as he disappeared to go grab a few extra and by the end they were both at least <em>full</em>.</p><p>“What now?” Harry asked, then “Other <em>clones? Jedi?</em>”</p><p>Seefer looked a little sad and Harry glanced at the ground. Maybe not then. The hand clapped onto his shoulder had him peeking back up though, and Seefer gesticulated a few times about “<em>Force</em>.”</p><p>He wanted him to do magic? Oh, to lift the rock. Harry shrugged and pulled out his wand, and then let out a shout when Seefer snatched it from him. “That’s – that’s <em>mine</em>,” he protested. “Give it back!”</p><p>Seefer frowned at him and pointed at the rock. “<em>Use the Force</em>,” he said firmly. “<em>No –” </em>and then a word as he shook Harry’s wand.</p><p>“You can’t take it off me,” Harry pleaded. “Seefer, Seefer, <em>please</em>.”</p><p>Seefer looked a bit guilty now, before a determined look crossed his face. He pointed at the rock again. “<em>Lift</em>,” he said firmly, gesturing his hand up.</p><p>“It doesn’t <em>work like that</em>,” Harry protested but Seefer was immovable. Harry set his jaw, feeling the slight prickle of tears at the back of his eyes. That was <em>his wand</em>, that was what made him a wizard and had got him out from Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon and-</p><p>“<em>Wingardium leviosa</em>,” he said firmly. The rock didn’t go anywhere. “See?” he said in appeal. “Seefer-”</p><p>Seefer made a little circle with his finger – <em>again</em>.</p><p>Harry bit at his lip, a look of misery on his face. Fine, <em>fine</em> – he tried again, and again, and again, each time Seefer making that little circle with his finger. Irritation built up in him before he closed his eyes very tightly and breathed out slowly, calming himself. <em>“Wingardium leviosa,” </em>he breathed and felt- he didn’t know how but somehow he <em>knew </em>the rock lifted, even before Seefer seized him up into a triumphant hug, his feet dangling off the ground.</p><p>“Can I have my wand back now?” Harry asked plaintively and Seefer looked at him through narrowed eyes, trying to fight back a clearly delighted smile.</p><p>“<em>Now lift,” </em>and Harry squinted as he tried to interpret the next few words. Seefer pressed a finger to his lips – the quiet signal.</p><p>“Without the spell?!” Harry squawked indignantly. “Seefer, <em>no!”</em></p><p><em>“Jedi can</em>,” something, Seefer was saying firmly. “<em>You can</em>,” something. Wizards could do wandless, wordless magic here?</p><p>“I’m only in my first year,” Harry said miserably. “Please?”</p><p>It took another hour and the rock had barely <em>twitched</em> at the end of it, but Seefer returned his wand and drew him into another hug. He said something in a proud voice that made Harry – well, he didn’t feel like it was <em>worth </em>it because he had a massive headache and he felt more exhausted than any of his classes had ever left him – but, yeah. He’d done <em>wandless magic</em>. That was pretty cool.</p><p>He could barely keep his eyes open, listing into Seefer’s side as the man wrapped a heavy arm around him. “<em>Did good kid</em>,” was rumbled and he yawned.</p><p>“Hate you,” he said sleepily and let those be the last words that dragged him down.</p><p>…</p><p>The sun was bright overhead the next time Harry woke up. He thought that Seefer had managed to get some sleep at the same time because the man looked refreshed as he fiddled with some wiring on his helmet with a little toolkit. Harry side-eyed him a little, to see if there’d be any more impromptu magic lessons forced on him, but it seemed like he was clear for the morning.</p><p>The little <em>datapad</em> was out to one side and Harry poked at it reluctantly. It looked like Seefer had had a map up, but the symbols meant absolutely nothing to him and he placed it back on the ground with a frown. A few more desultory pokes had something that sounded like disjointed music playing and Seefer rolled his eyes at him, turning the noise off.</p><p>“<em>No</em>,” he was told, with a poke on his noise. Harry tried half-heartedly to bite at Seefer’s finger which got him a flick to his ear and he sighed. Seefer said something that sounded oddly like Hermione’s attempts of “<em>if you’re bored, you could always do your homework.”</em> No <em>thank you</em>. If he was going to be running for his life from killer <em>droids</em> then he was at least going to enjoy not having any classwork.</p><p>Seefer raised an eyebrow at him and then pulled the <em>datapad </em>up. He tapped at a few things, skimming through information too rapidly for Harry to even process. Finally he made a satisfied noise and then placed it in front of Harry. There was a brightly coloured – <em>thing</em> that looked like a very deadly cross between an insect and a wolf, and a mechanical voice that read out “<em>A is for</em>” something. Harry paused for a second. Was this -? He tapped on the screen suspiciously and an image of the big gun that Seefer had strapped to his leg came up. <em>“B is for blaster.”</em></p><p>This was a <em>toddler’s alphabet book</em>. Harry glared daggers at Seefer who was pretending not to look at him, his shoulders shaking suspiciously. He tapped the screen again and something with a frightening amount of teeth came up. Harry blinked at it a few times, a little disturbed. This was… a fairly violent toddler’s alphabet book? Additional taps took him through a glowing sword called a <em>lightsaber</em>, some sharp things pointing out of a vehicle called <em>magna-spikes </em>and a knife-like thing called a <em>vibroblade</em> among many other things that he would not want to encounter on a dark night.</p><p>“This is not normal,” Harry said. “I am very certain that this is not something that parents should be sharing with their children.”</p><p>Seefer ruffled his hair and then pointed to the explosive on screen encouragingly. “<em>D is for</em>…” he prompted and Harry scowled at him, laying the <em>datapad </em>aside.</p><p>“Are we moving again soon?” he asked, moving his fingers in their established ‘walking’ signal.</p><p>Seefer shook his head. “<em>Not yet</em>,” he said pointing to the sun and then raising a finger. Harry tentatively translated that as ‘tomorrow’. It was – good to have a break. His legs had never hurt so much before and even though he’d had a solid night’s sleep he was still a little tired. Maybe the rest would help him to keep up a bit better when they moved again – although, given he didn’t know where they were moving <em>to</em>, maybe it didn’t matter much.</p><p>He flopped onto the ground, inching a little closer to Seefer. He got nothing more than an amused look for his troubles, Seefer returning to whatever he was trying to fix – unsuccessfully – on his helmet.</p><p>Harry was – almost, but not quite – contemplating returning to the <em>datapad</em> and the annoying sing-song repetition when he caught sight of a bright spark in the sky. It looked like a meteor, descending rapidly and he tugged at Seefer’s arm to catch his attention. The look that crossed Seefer’s face was nothing less than bone-deep <em>relief</em> as it was joined by two other descending lights, streaking off somewhere close to the west and disappearing just past a winding mess of crystalline hills.</p><p>Seefer was on his feet before Harry could ask any questions, tucking the wires back into his helmet panel and clicking it back into place over his head. He said something in an excited voice, and then laughed a little, picking up Harry’s own helmet and passing it over.</p><p>“<em>We go?”</em> Harry asked uncertainly, and Seefer nodded. His whole body looked as though he’d been injected with adrenalin.</p><p>“<em>We go,” </em>he confirmed, and laughed again. “<em>Thank the kriffing Force</em>.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The rush of hope that Seefer had felt on seeing the ships’ descent proved a little over optimistic. There certainly hadn’t been a need to force a move immediately anyway, as distance on <em>foot</em> proved very different to distance with mechanical support. Harry did well to keep up, but Seefer was conscious that the kid had had a hard few days, weeks – maybe even months, depending on however he’d ended up on Christophsis.</p><p>He made sure to pace them both carefully, moving them towards a more standard day-night rotation than their original combat-readiness march out of the city. Harry had a rare knack for catching those lizards and Seefer was less bothered about supplementing their rations with additional nutrition bars now he knew there was the possibility of re-joining brothers. Evenings were spent with on lessons with Harry – either trying to remember what the standard Jedi tricks looked like, or making him determinedly learn his alphabet and some of the basic <em>Aurebesh </em>symbols. Seefer had had to rescue the datapad from ‘accidentally’ being left behind on several occasions. Apparently his kid was <em>not</em> keen on the supplementary reading material.</p><p>Harry learned fast though; not quite as fast as the <em>vod</em>, but he didn’t have the benefits of the accelerating aging or the classroom environment. He also relaxed a bit as they moved on without any further violence cropping up, seeming to settle into the new standard. He was a brave kid, Seefer thought a little proudly. Even after presumably losing his Jedi Master he was holding up well, only occasionally lapsing into morose silences.</p><p>He’d been – upset, was probably the mildest way of terming it when age had cropped up. Harry was <em>only eleven</em>. Maybe the clones were shipped out at eleven or twelve, but they’d been engineered that way. From Harry’s size, he most certainly hadn’t been, and he looked much too skinny for a combat zone <em>anyway</em>. His education was a mess as well. There was only so much he could do to fix it while they were on the move but Seefer was damned well going to <em>try</em>. His kid grumbled but was obedient enough in the end as long as his stick wasn’t at risk. Seefer hadn’t figured out what was going on there but – well, he guessed he didn’t have to know everything about the Jedi.</p><p>However well they were both managing, Seefer couldn’t deny the absolute relief that filtered through him as he saw the first of the white armours of his brothers in the distance after nearly a week. “Nearly there,” he breathed, and Harry looked at him.</p><p>“Good?” he questioned sharply, and Seefer grinned at him from behind his helmet.</p><p>“Very good,” he confirmed. Language was still an issue, but they had the core bits figured out – hungry and danger, droids and Jedi. Harry hadn’t quite figured out what a tooka was, but that probably wasn’t going to come up in that much. In the meantime, it amused Seefer no end. The resemblance was remarkable if he said so himself.</p><p>Seefer made sure to keep up a stream of chatter when he thought it was safe, to help Harry immerse himself. He wasn’t sure why this hadn’t been done originally but – Jedi would do what they would do. He’d tried a few lines that he’d heard the Jedi say before – <em>trust in the Force, may the Force be with you – </em>and had received nothing but what he assumed were snarky comments in the kid’s own language. Brat. Seefer thought he was starting to pick up a few words of Harry’s language but kept quiet about it, careful not to let the kid think he could get away with not learning Basic.</p><p>Seefer held his hand up as he came closer and Harry slowed to a stop behind him. “Don’t want to surprise ‘em,” he said firmly. “We’re not exactly in standard uniform any more kid, and people get itchy trigger fingers in a warzone. We’re just going to go in nice and slow with our arms away,” and he gestured his arms wide, “From any weapons.”</p><p>He wished for a second that he could see Harry’s face under his helmet. His kid had the most <em>glorious </em>set of expressions and he was pretty sure this would have been met with deep scepticism. Nonetheless he set his arms wide and cocked his head in readiness for the next instruction.</p><p>“Alright – let’s <em>not</em> get shot on the home run,” Seefer breathed and began to move forward. He really wished he’d managed to get his comm unit working.</p><p>It didn’t take long for his brothers to spot him – the infrared embedded in their buckets had its benefits. “Friendly!” Seefer shouted over the distance. “CT-4387! Comms are down!”</p><p>There were blasters pointed at them and Seefer made sure his hands were clearly visible, nudging Harry when it seemed like he wanted to drop his own arms. “Not much longer,” he said reassuringly, and the kid bumped his shoulder against him. Three figures kept them in place while they – Seefer assumed – sent a call out for the commander of the batch.</p><p>“Advance – slowly!” The call finally came back, and Seefer breathed out a sigh of relief.</p><p>“C’mon kid,” he said and begun to move forward as instructed. Harry stayed close behind as if glued to him, clearly unhappy. Seefer didn’t blame him. He wasn’t particularly keen at having blasters pointed at him either.</p><p>They came into arms-length and were rapidly patted down, weapons removed. One of the clones found Harry’s stick and paused at the upset noise that tore from the kid’s throat. “He a cadet?” he was asked brusquely.</p><p>“Baby Jedi,” Seefer said in response. “Found him in the capital.”</p><p>He got a hum in response, and everyone there pretended not to notice when the stick was carefully hidden back behind the belt. “Armour colours?”</p><p>“Bit of camouflage never harmed anyone,” Seefer shrugged casually, then, “Got lucky with the mini armour set.” He didn’t know why he didn’t explain it was a Force thing. Harry could decide who he wanted to tell.</p><p>“Your baby Jedi speak?” A pause. “CT-3998, by the way.”</p><p>“Nice to meet you,” Seefer said in reply. “And sometimes. When he’s comfortable.”</p><p>That earned them a snort. “Alright, buckets off,” CT-3998 said. Seefer pulled his off and gave Harry a quick gesture to do the same. Harry did so, blinking owlishly underneath his glasses.</p><p>“General approaching!” one of the men called and CT-3998 stepped in quickly.</p><p>“<em>Don’t </em>get mouthy,” he breathed quietly. “General doesn’t like it. Pull out the sirs, follow orders and <em>keep your head down</em>.”</p><p>Seefer felt a bolt of tension run through him. He stepped closer to Harry and squeezed at his shoulder. Harry looked up at him in worry – then flinched, a full-body thing, as the General came into sight, the clone commander accompanying him.</p><p>The Jedi was a Besalisk – four-armed, serpentine, and towering over the troopers. Seefer tried to remember what training information he could and found himself with worryingly little on the species. The being had a downturned mouth, a vicious glare on his face and two double bladed lightsabers tucked into his belt. No wonder Harry was tense.</p><p>“Sir,” Seefer saluted. He thought about nudging Harry to do the same, but Harry’s eyes were fixed on the snake-like crest of Pong Krell as if he was transfixed for a few seconds. There was a pause, and then an unintelligible, inhuman hissing came from his mouth. Pong Krell reeled back as if struck.</p><p>“I – uh, Harry doesn’t speak Basic, sir,” Seefer rushed out, not wanted that glare to be turned on his kid. He regretted it when the Besalisk turned to face him, an ugly look on his face.</p><p>“Were you asked to speak, clone?” he spat and Seefer faltered a little. Jedi Knight Veshk’kri might have been useless as a commander but he’d still – he’d still spoken to them like they were people. He frowned a little, but none of the surrounding clones would meet his eyes, staring straight ahead in parade-ground discipline.</p><p>“No sir,” he said determinedly, directing his eyes slightly above Pong-Krell’s shoulder. “Won’t happen again sir.”</p><p>The being fluttered his tongue out lightly and then shook his head in disgust. “See that it doesn’t,” he said flatly. “And for your information, no Besalisk would suffer a child to sully themselves with the Basic tongue, hybrid or <em>not</em>. He’ll have time enough to learn that filth when he’s fully grown.”</p><p>Seefer couldn’t stop his eyes from flicking between the two, seeing absolutely no resemblance in being. Harry – his Harry – was supposed to be of the same genetic type as Pong Krell? He didn’t believe it for a moment. And not speaking Basic? That just sounded- he cut the thought off before it could progress any further.</p><p> Pong Krell spared him a long look before turning back to Harry – and then that same inhuman hissing came from him, far more suited to the being’s serpentine resemblance. Harry hissed back and they exchanged for a few seconds before Pong Krell raised a hand.</p><p>“CC-3397, get the Padawan fed and find him some more appropriate clothing,” he instructed. “It’s unsuitable for a Jedi to be wearing clone armour.” So his kid was supposed to be <em>unarmoured </em>in a <em>warzone</em>?</p><p>“Yes sir,” CC-3397 said obediently, moving towards Harry. Seefer wanted to protest at being separated, but bit his tongue. “Is that – should it be Commander Harry, sir?”</p><p>“<em>Obviously</em>,” the Besalisk snapped. “You should know how to address your superiors CC-3397.”</p><p>“Yes sir,” CC-3397 said robotically. The other clones moved with him. Seefer managed to keep his flinch unnoticeable. How in all the kriffing hells was Harry supposed to act as a Commander if this Jedi General wasn’t even going to let him speak Basic? Even if he <em>could </em>speak fluently, he was still just a baby. Not even Mandalorians let their kids near a battlefield until they were thirteen, let alone expecting them to command anything. Maybe it was just the title?</p><p>Harry turned as if he wanted to protest, meeting Seefer’s eyes uncertainly. Pong Krell hissed something expectantly, and the boy’s shoulders hunched in a little. Seefer nodded infinitesimally and Harry tracked his eyes back to Pong Krell. He swallowed and then Seefer was left alone with the Besalisk.</p><p>“Clone CT-4387,” Pong Krell said delicately, that sneer now focused solely on him. “Report <em>now</em>.”</p><p>Seefer stumbled through his report, not certain what the Besalisk was looking for. He decided to omit the Basic that Harry had learnt from the General’s previous distaste – and after a moment’s hesitation, omit the stick that Harry had used to channel the stronger expressions of his Force. He didn’t like this. He didn’t like it <em>at all</em>.</p><p>Pong Krell seemed far more focused on Harry’s capabilities than any of the droid numbers that Seefer had gathered. The colour changing in particular caught the being’s attention for some reason that Seefer couldn’t understand, as did the blue flames that Harry could bring up when necessary. His dead brothers, the failed assault – that didn’t even occasion a comment.</p><p>“So,” the Besalisk said when the report was finished. “You survived by the pure chance of talented Padawan mercy-healing you and ushering you out of the city.” Seefer said nothing. “<em>Typical</em>,” the being hissed. “Barely a tool worth using.” He jerked his head sharply. “Find yourself some more appropriate armour, clone. I do not permit deviations in my battalions.”</p><p>Seefer saluted, fighting back the fury that threatened to shake his hands. “Sir,” he said flatly.</p><p>“And clone,” the Besalisk called over his shoulder, already having turned to leave. “Jedi do not permit attachments. Do not seek to hinder the Padawan’s training further by talking to him again.”</p><p>Seefer’s fists clenched and he inhaled sharply. Pong Krell didn’t bother to wait for a reply.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Out of the frying pan and into the fire? :) Can't have everything go nice and smoothly and Pong Krell must have had another battalion before he was unleashed on the 501st... Little bit of artistic license taken with Besalisks, but I had to find the beginnings of a plot somewhere!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>“Focus,” </em>Krell – <em>Master Krell, </em>Harry corrected himself, having had more than one earful about appropriate titles – hissed. Harry frowned and steadied the speeder from where it had begun to wobble in the air. “<em>The Force is all around us. It is your will that moves it. You must be strong enough to impose what you know to be true on the world and the remainder will fall into place.”</em></p><p>They were sat outside – well, Harry was sat and Master Krell was pacing around him as he spun his instruction. The base that had been set up was neat enough, showing little sign of the battle that had been fought the day before. Harry had been pushed out of the way, the soldiers snapping out their blasters as droids came marching in. It hadn’t been a long thing – apparently the droids were only a scouting party, but there’d still been the scent of blood and plasma in the air afterwards.</p><p>Master Krell didn’t see any reason why this might delay training. It felt like all he’d cared about over the past week or two was training and drilling Harry for information.</p><p>It all sounded a bit – far-fetched to Harry. The whole, <em>the Force is all around us</em>, the <em>sensing</em>, the vaguely hand-wavy <em>listen to the Force</em>. No one had ever really told him to listen to his magic. He knew it sounded ridiculous, calling <em>this</em> far-fetched when he’d walked into his first transfiguration lesson to watch his teacher turn from a cat into a human but… there were <em>rules</em> to magic. You had tools; people had researched concepts for decades to distil it down into the core words that underpinned a spell. It was – there was a group belief there.</p><p>The Force didn’t seem to have any of that – or if it did, Master Krell wasn’t particularly keen to share. He was keen enough to hear what Harry had to say about his schooling, hissing particular enquiries when they hit anything that he found unfamiliar but… Harry managed to keep his discontent from showing on his face. He half wished that he hadn’t said anything when he’d first come face to face with the Besalisk.</p><p>It hadn’t been anything offensive – just a “<em>who are you?”</em> but the way Master Krell had reacted to him being able to speak parseltongue… Apparently the language was a <em>really </em>big deal. The rest of his interest had been driven out when Harry had, stuttering, tried to explain what had happened and how he’d ended up in this place – Christophsis, Krell had called it.</p><p>He shifted a little, uncomfortable in the gaping robes Master Krell insisted he wear “<em>as an indication of your status, Padawan.” </em>He didn’t see why he had to be a Padawan, or why he was supposed to call Krell <em>Master </em>– but master that twisted in parseltongue to mean something more like <em>teacher / elder / respected master</em>. He almost missed the armour Seefer had made him wear previously.</p><p>He definitely missed Seefer.</p><p>Krell had been <em>furious</em> the first time Harry had tried to sneak out to see him. It wasn’t like he’d managed to get far – he’d made his way into the mess only to find that every single one of the men had the same face under their helmets. There were – minor differences, a slight shading in the hair of one, a scar over the eye of another but – it was like a whole battalion full of Freds and Georges.</p><p>“<em>Inappropriate</em>,” Krell had called it. “<em>A Jedi does not have attachment</em>.” Harry wasn’t sure what <em>that</em> was all about. “<em>The clones are tools, to be kept in good condition but there to serve the greater good. Do not blunt their edge.”</em></p><p>The second time he’d tried – that had been worse. Harry knew he had to find a different way about it. He didn’t want any of the troopers punished for it.</p><p>As to whenever Krell got onto the topic of learning Basic, Harry half-hoping to pick up the lessons that Seefer had started - “<em>Parseltongue is the sacred language of our people. When you are an adult you may make necessary sacrifices to work with those unable to honour its beauty, but until then you will not denigrate your ancestors’ tongue.”</em></p><p><em>Ancestors’ tongue</em> his arse, as Ron would say (while checking around furtively to make sure no adult could hear him). Last <em>Harry </em>had checked he didn’t have four arms, or a snakeface, or – any kind of resemblance to Krell- <em>Master</em> Krell. He’d decided not to mention that. Krell had a bit of a temper on him, for all that he’d never raised his voice to Harry. He just… <em>hissed</em> and Harry could <em>feel </em>his displeasure.</p><p>“<em>Now put it down,” </em>Krell instructed, and Harry let the speeder sink down again. He was careful not to let it fall too rapidly – he didn’t want to damage the engines and have the- the <em>clones</em>, as Krell called them – forced to repair it again. Krell saw nothing wrong in creating additional work and none of the men had ever complained, but Harry could only see <em>Seefer </em>in the tilt of every helmet and it just didn’t seem fair.</p><p>“<em>Good,” </em>Master Krell said. Harry breathed out slowly. Sometimes he thought he could feel the Besalisk in the back of his head, a kind of watchful, avaricious presence. <em>A padawan link</em>, he'd been told. <em>It is how we train. </em>He’d done his best to build up an imaginary wall around it, hunching himself down inside his own mind, but he didn’t know how well it had worked. Sometimes it almost felt like it wasn't just Master Krell there. “<em>Now, tell me more of your Voldemort</em>.”</p><p>That had been something Harry had thrown out in the first few days – attacked by a Dark Lord (a <em>Sith, </em>Krell had murmured in interest) – thrown away from his school, not <em>knowing </em>where he was or what was going on. He’d mentioned the Philosopher’s Stone, and Krell had snatched away the shards to ‘study’. Harry didn’t think that he’d be getting them back and he was a bit grateful he’d mentioned the Stone before his wand, else he wouldn’t have had the sense to keep his mouth shut about that. Krell hadn’t seen his wand and he wasn’t <em>going </em>to be seeing it either.</p><p>“<em>I don’t know much more,” </em>Harry said. He tried to be polite though because there was something that he wanted. “<em>I’ve told you what I know</em>.”</p><p>“<em>Yes, yes,” </em>Krell said impatiently. “<em>A dark lord, waging war on your planet’s Temple.” </em>Harry didn’t bother to correct him on that anymore. “<em>He killed your parents and tried to kill you, and then fled defeated. But how did he – possess this teacher of yours? How did he stay alive?”</em></p><p>“<em>I don’t know</em>,” Harry said patiently. “<em>He said he was shadow and vapour. He said he could only take form when other people welcomed them into his body and he sustained himself on unicorn blood.”</em></p><p>
  <em>“Unicorns – the Force creatures of yours?”</em>
</p><p><em>“Yes – they’re supposed to represent purity.” </em>Harry shrugged. “<em>Hagrid said it was a sin to kill a unicorn. They lived in the Forest</em>.”</p><p>“<em>But this stone of yours – this would have renewed him?”</em></p><p><em>“That’s what he said,</em>” Harry agreed. <em>“The Philosopher’s Stone was supposed to turn things into gold and make the user immortal.” </em>He was careful to call it the user, not the drinker. He didn’t really like Master Krell’s interest in the whole thing and didn’t see any reason to make it <em>too </em>easy.</p><p>Krell frowned and paced up and down a little more. The troopers moving around the base carefully did not pay attention to him. Harry – he wondered if Seefer was there among them. There’d been – there’d been a few dead yesterday, and there were more still in the infirmary. This was partly why Harry had been patient with Krell’s interest. He took a breath. Might as well give it a go now.</p><p>“<em>Master Krell,” </em>he said politely. “<em>I was interested in a Jedi art.”</em></p><p>Krell looked at him steadily and Harry forged forward.</p><p>“<em>You mentioned healing. I have an interest in it.”</em></p><p><em>“The clones again?” </em>Krell snapped. “<em>You have too much interest in those things, Padawan.”</em></p><p>Harry bit his tongue at the <em>things</em>. Keep his eyes on the bigger prize. “<em>They would be useful test studies – to learn on,” </em>he pursued doggedly. “<em>I don’t know the Jedi way of healing and I wouldn’t want to get it wrong if I had to heal someone important.” </em>He felt a bit ill at those words – but it was the same approach he’d learnt to take with Uncle Vernon.</p><p>Krell paused. “<em>That is not an… unreasonable thought,” </em>he allowed grudgingly. “<em>They may still have purpose to you.</em>”</p><p>Harry kept still and waited. Krell didn’t like to be rushed.</p><p>“<em>Very well,”  </em>the Besalisk conceded. “<em>I will demonstrate and you may practice. Follow.”</em></p><p>Harry kept his triumph restrained as Krell marched them to the infirmary, ignoring the way the clones snapped to attention as he passed. The medic froze when they entered, before carefully moving away from his patients and snapping his own salute. His helmet was off and he was recognisable from the others by a faintly noticeable bend where his nose must have been broken before.</p><p>“General, sir,” the medic acknowledged steadily.</p><p>“CT-897,” Krell said, a little disdainfully. They were <em>IDs, </em>Harry had come to realise after some time. Not names, just letters and numbers. Krell said some other things, and Harry watched as CT-897’s shoulders tensed before he nodded jerkily in acknowledgement. “Sir,” he said.</p><p>There were five patients, already bandaged up from the day before, and Krell gestured with a sharp handwave. “<em>Come, Padawan,” </em>he said, and Harry didn’t miss the deep, slow breath CT-897 took at the hissing. “<em>Watch me</em> – <em>focus.”</em></p><p>Harry narrowed his eyes behind his glasses as Krell placed the upper right of his hands on one of the trooper’s shoulder. The trooper was deadly still as he watched. “<em>First, you reach out your senses.”</em></p><p>If he let his head go a bit – fuzzy, let his eyes drift a little, sometimes he thought he could <em>see </em>what Krell talked about with the Force. It was like tendrils reaching out, humming as they passed through the man’s flesh – little sparks of information leaping back.</p><p>“<em>This tells me what is wrong. The clone has nothing more than a blaster bolt to the waist – barely deep enough to cause nerve damage.” </em></p><p>The light twisted around the man’s waist and then seemed to brighten, gathering- breath? Gathering something from the air around it as the flesh was- Harry frowned. It was like the flesh was being <em>asked</em> to knit back together, but Krell was getting impatient, the light turning cold. The man was breathing hard now, shaky with pain. The light turned a bit darker but the wound closed eventually.</p><p><em>“Be careful with your healing,” </em>Krell instructed, taking his hand off and paying no further attention to the man. “<em>Life force must come from somewhere – that will have eaten away at some of his muscle. You can heal a man to a skeleton, dead from emaciation.” </em>He paused and smiled a little in a way that made Harry’s gut twist. “<em>It is always good to practice.”</em></p><p>Harry swallowed then nodded.</p><p>“<em>Good,” </em>Krell said carelessly. “<em>Then you try</em>.”</p><p>Harry moved over to a bed and bit at his lip. He wanted to ask the man his name but didn’t dare with Krell in the room. His hand trembled a little as he rested it on the man’s shoulder and this strangely seemed to make the trooper’s eyes soften slightly. No one made any other acknowledgement, although CT-897 seemed to be twitching with the urge to check on the man that had been healed.</p><p>Harry thought about it for a second, then closed his eyes. It was easier to visualise those long tendrils with his eyes closed. He wasn’t expecting the <em>flood</em> of information to come sinking in <em>– blood pumping through veins, breath heavy in the lungs, the marrow pulsating, sparks flickering through the brain </em>– and he snatched his hand back, his eyes flying open.</p><p>Krell hissed a laugh. “<em>Good</em>,” he said. “<em>Again.</em>”</p><p>Harry was more cautious this time in reaching out, <em>looking </em>with his mind’s eye for what was wrong. It wasn’t too bad, he realised after a moment. A badly burnt leg, the muscle weak but not – not irreparable. He focused in on it and readied himself as though he were going to cast a spell. It was – almost like spell casting but not and he coaxed the energy into the leg. The flesh knew how it was supposed to be, he realised dimly. All he had to do was <em>ask</em> and provide a channel. He could be patient, let it come to him.</p><p>He was trembling like a leaf when he reopened his eyes. The trooper was staring at him, reaching down to touch his leg. Harry didn’t know quite <em>why </em>or <em>how </em>he did it but the bandages came off smoothly, wrapping themselves up to the side the way he’d seen Madam Pomfrey direct things around her infirmary.</p><p><em>“Very good</em>,” Krell said and Harry started. He hadn’t seen the Besalisk hovering behind him, inspecting the new-grown skin with a kind of proprietary interest. It looked pristine, as though it had never been injured.</p><p>“<em>I,” </em>Harry said and glanced over to the others. “<em>Can I continue practicing?”</em> He tried not to sound too hopeful.</p><p>Krell laughed but this time it wasn’t a <em>nasty</em> sound in itself. “<em>You’re exhausted</em>,” he said. “<em>Know your own limits Padawan. Healing doesn’t come from nowhere.”</em></p><p>He snapped something at a waiting trooper. “<em>He’ll fetch you food,” </em>Krell said almost gently to Harry, almost cruelly. “<em>You must replenish – eat well tonight and sleep. If you insist you may practice again tomorrow.”</em></p><p> Harry nodded faintly. He did have a headache he realised, and his throat was dry with thirst. “<em>In the morning, when you’re busy, I can try again?” </em>he suggested. Krell waved a hand as if to indicate it was irrelevant to him. <em>Good</em>, Harry thought a little savagely. He <em>was</em> going to find a way to talk to the troopers at some point.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to everyone who's been following and commenting on this so far - and especially appreciate everyone who's called out mistakes and plot holes! As you might imagine, this is being written fairly rapidly without a beta so I really appreciate the corrections. For the questions about plot and linking up with the clone wars - consider this very loosely adjacent to the plot, given it's been a long while since I last encountered the source material. I'm referring to a general timeline but otherwise it's being winged so it's unlikely to match up perfectly.</p><p>(Also: the observant of you that are re-reading might notice a one or two line change in the last chapter!)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“<em>Someone</em> forgot to mention his baby Jedi was a damned miracle worker,” CT-3667 – Merry – said cheerfully, collapsing down beside Seefer with his nutri-pack in hand. Seefer blinked at him.</p><p>“Your leg!” he said, and Merry grinned openly.</p><p>“The commander just,” and he wiggled his hands, “Force-magicked it away. Better than bacta.”</p><p>Seefer couldn’t stop the proud set to his shoulders at that, ignoring the amused looks he was being sent by the members of the 304<sup>th</sup>. “Did the same for me, back in Crystal City,” he said. “Wore himself out.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Merry said a little thoughtfully. “The general was with him, said that healing took a load out of ‘em. Food and rest needed and all that.” He paused a little. “The general demonstrated,” he said lightly. “Knitted Ash right back together. He’s a bit tired, so medic’s kept him back in the infirmary, but it’s great news.”</p><p>Seefer knew the look on his face was unfriendly. He took a mouthful of the bland mush they’d been assigned and refrained from speaking.</p><p>“Does that mean – the others?” Ricochet – CT-3822 – asked hopefully. He had a burn scar to the right of his mouth where a blaster had skimmed him during a practice, bouncing back off a target. His batchmate was still camped out in the infirmary and CT-897 hadn’t looked positive when last asked about it.</p><p>Merry hummed a little. “The commander was given permission to come-” and he paused over the word for a moment, “<em>practice</em> again tomorrow. Bad use of resource to work him to the bone – he was near swaying by the time my leg was in one piece.” He looked a little thoughtful. “It didn’t look like it was <em>easy</em>, that was for sure.”</p><p>Seefer didn’t miss that word. <em>Practice</em>. On men that were dying on Krell’s command. He also didn’t miss the fact that Krell had demonstrated and then walked away without any further intention of helping out.</p><p>“CT-897 must be ecstatic,” Cricket said, nudging in beside them. “He never liked anyone else in his med-bay.”</p><p>“Should have seen his face when he had to let me leave his tender, <em>tender</em> control,” Merry said smugly. “Given half the chance I think he would have tried dissecting my leg again to work out how it was fixed.”</p><p>“So,” Seefer said as casually as he could manage. “Don’t suppose you know when the commander has his practice scheduled?” He refused to acknowledge any of the chuckles that floated around.</p><p>He was still settling in with the 304<sup>th</sup>, assigned to fill one of the gaps of the third company – and there had been plenty of gaps after a few weeks of pushing what felt like a pointless assault on Crystal City. It felt strange, not having his batchmates around him. All the clones knew how to resettle into a new assignment of course, and there was the basic camaraderie of anyone raised from Kamino, but –</p><p>Well, anyway. Enough to say that his new brothers had latched onto his <em>completely valid</em> concern for his kid and if there was one thing that <em>all </em>brothers had in common, it was willingness to make relentless fun of any difference that they noticed.</p><p>“Couldn’t say,” Merry said, already having stuffed his nutri-pack down his gullet. “If I had to take a guess though… I’d guess it’d be right when the general’s reporting to the council.”</p><p>Seefer hummed.</p><p>“Say,” Cricket said in mock surprise. “I seem to be helping assigning shifts for tomorrow. I wonder if any of my brothers might like to be on supplying the med-bay.”</p><p>Seefer eyed him. Cricket was a damned <em>shark</em> when he knew that he had something that you wanted. He didn’t have much of an option though. “What,” he said flatly.</p><p>The grin he was given showed all of Cricket’s teeth, nice and wide. “Next two night watches,” he bargained.</p><p>“General’ll notice if too many shifts are off,” Ricochet cautioned. The general had Firm Views on appropriate running of a battalion. Cricket pulled a face. There wasn’t a huge amount they could trade for – it wasn’t like there was rec time available, or any of them owned anything to trade.</p><p>“<em>Fine</em>,” he grumbled. “An equivalent favour at <em>some </em>point.”</p><p>Seefer nodded sharply and Merry tapped him lightly on his shoulder in reassurance. “He seems a good kid,” his brother said mildly.</p><p>“Very,” Seefer ground out. And seeing him forced to trail after that <em>di’kut</em>, that uncanny hissing language being jabbed at him… It wasn’t even like it was his mother-tongue, he wanted to snap at the general. Say what you like about <em>the sacred tongue</em>, but it certainly hadn’t been the first language leaping to Harry’s lips when he’d been scared and alone. And it hadn’t been like Harry had had an issue with learning Basic until he’d been marshalled back into Jedi control.</p><p>“Don’t suppose anyone’s managed to track down a translator capable of handling-?” Seefer asked and was met by groans.</p><p>“Give us some <em>time</em> brother,” Cricket said in mock offense. “CT-3532 is all bound up in the rules of <em>what the general says</em> so we can’t even requisition it like normal. We’ve already checked and it’s not in the standard language kit the droids are equipped with.”</p><p>Seefer shrugged slightly. It was just frustrating to <em>finally</em> have a lead on a way to communicate and then have to wait. He didn’t think Harry could keep up with learning Basic with the general hovering around him like he had nothing better to do with his time. And every time Harry had managed to slip away- his mouth twisted. He was still annoyed that he hadn’t been in the mess the first time his kid had made an attempt. The second time, Pong Krell had made sure he was on the scouts – and he’d been assigned to every damn assault they’d had since. His captain had just shrugged apologetically when he’d challenged it.</p><p>He drummed his fingers on his knee for a second then looked over at Merry. “He looked okay, though?” he checked anxiously, and got a pebble tossed at him for his trouble.</p><p>Merry looked sympathetic though. “He looked <em>fine</em>,” he stressed. “A little bit nervous about the whole thing and a little bit shaky at the end, but you should have seen the look on his face when the general said he could come back.” He gave Seefer an easy grin. “I think he might miss you <em>vod</em> – so maybe he’s not okay,” he said in mock thought, “I mean, who’d miss an ugly mug like that-“</p><p>Seefer had him in a headlock before the sentence was finished.</p><p>…</p><p>He was twitchy right up until he was at the med-bay door, supplies piled into his arms – and then he was just nervous. What if – what if Harry <em>didn’t</em> want to see him? The general had said that attachments weren’t a thing for Jedi and what if Harry had decided that he didn’t need Seefer any more – that he was better off with his <em>master</em>-</p><p>Ricochet shoved him in the back, forcing him to stumble forward. He’d managed to wrangle his way onto the restock team as well, desperate to see if his batchmate might have even the <em>slightest</em> of chances. CT-897 gave them both a glare from where he was hovering over – <em>Harry.</em></p><p>He looked – okay, Seefer catalogued. Still wearing those <em>stupid</em> pieces of glass over his eyes, but CT-897 said that he couldn’t fix that until they were at a proper civvie Med-centre. He looked a little tired, like he hadn’t been sleeping well, but he’d gained a bit of weight which was good. He was sat beside CT-3823, his brow furrowed with concentration, barely even breathing as he focused.</p><p>Ricochet made a little noise before busying himself with unpacking the crate, nudging Seefer sharply to do the same. He kept an anxious eye on his brother but that was fair, Seefer reckoned. It wasn’t like he wasn’t peeking up at Harry every chance he could get.</p><p>The kid was looking pale now, a bit shaky. CT-897 looked a little like he wanted to give him a quick shake but he was also checking CT-3823 against a scanner, chewing a bit on his lip as they watched. The scanner beeped and CT-897 let out a long breath of relief. Harry didn’t seem done yet though, sweat trickling down from his brow. He kept going, doing – whatever he was doing, and CT-897 tapped a finger rapidly on the scanner in thought. Another minute, and the medic nodded to himself in decision. “That’s good, commander,” he said soothingly. “You’ve done good, CT-3823’s going to recover.”</p><p>Ricochet let his head drop by the bandage cupboard and took a few deep breaths in. Harry didn’t seem to hear though, his eyes blank with focus. “Commander,” CT-897 called again. “Sir, that’s enough.”</p><p>Seefer set his box down with a thud, already turning. He put a hand on Harry’s shoulder, ignoring the way CT-897 pulled back, eyes wide in shock. “Harry,” he called firmly, and Harry jolted backwards, blinking rapidly. His hands were shaking.</p><p>“I-” Harry stuttered, and then, “Seefer?” Seefer didn’t know how his kid recognised him from any of his brothers, particularly when he still had his bucket on in that plain, indistinguishable white. The grin that split over his face was radiant though, and he jumped to his feet only for Seefer to have to catch him when he staggered.</p><p>“Seefer!” Harry called again happily, seemingly unbothered at his own near fall. He wrapped his arms around him and Seefer pulled him into a desperate hug.</p><p>“<em>Sithspit </em>kid,” Seefer muttered gruffly. “Need to take care of yourself.”</p><p>Harry grinned up at him. “Grumpy,” he said a little teasingly. Seefer raised an eyebrow. That was a new word for him. He didn’t bother to repress his own grin. That meant his kid had found some way to keep learning Basic. Good for him! He wasn’t going to admit that he’d been worried Harry would – would listen to the general and ignore what was best for him.</p><p>CT-897 was paying determined attention to CT-3823, pretending very carefully not to notice any kind of reunion. Ricochet had moved onto distributing the material from Seefer’s crate, Seefer noted a little gratefully.</p><p>“You okay?” he checked with Harry seriously, and Harry rolled his eyes at him.</p><p>“Okay,” he confirmed, deadpan, and then pointed at him. “You? Not seen.”</p><p>“Yeah kid, I’m good,” Seefer said reassuringly. “All good, nothing to worry about. But- the general? He’s-”</p><p>Harry grimaced a little at Krell’s title, then shrugged. “Okay,” he said firmly. He pulled a face and untucked a hand to wiggle at Seefer. “Force is good, blah.” He stuck his tongue out, and Ricochet barely managed to choke back a laugh.</p><p>“Good,” Seefer said firmly, tapping Harry on his head. “You should be learning. It’s important.”</p><p>Harry rolled his eyes. “Datapad?” he asked a little hopefully, then tilted his head back. “V is for vibro-blade,” he chanted mischievously, and Seefer laughed.</p><p>“Brat,” he said fondly. “No, no datapad now. I think we’ve learnt our lesson there.”</p><p>CT-897 glanced at them from the side of his eyes. “There’s more healing to be done – I think the commander’s done enough for today,” he said slowly. “We could put something on in the background another time. Nice and quiet.”</p><p>Seefer paused for a second. “The general says it’s inappropriate for Harry to be learning Basic,” he said cautiously. All of his brothers looked at him at that and then at Harry, tucked carefully into his side.</p><p>“You really seem to have taken that to heart,” Ricochet said dryly. Seefer shrugged.</p><p>“Harry’s a bad influence on me,” he said blandly and ignored the suspicious look the kid sent him. He always could tell when he was being made fun of.</p><p>Their comms crackled briefly. “General’s nearly finished briefing,” Cricket said, and Ricochet and Seefer looked over to their crates sharply. Seefer detached Harry from him and moved to stack inventory as quickly as he could.</p><p>“CT-897,” Ricochet said quickly as he could. “Sketch – he’s – he’ll be good, now, right?”</p><p>“The commander’s done a good job,” CT-897 confirmed. “Still going to take a bit of healing, but I’m pretty confident Sketch’ll wake up in the next day or two.” He looked down at where Harry was frowning a little at Seefer. “Thank you commander,” he said strongly, and Harry blinked up at him.</p><p>“Okay?” Harry said a little uncertainly, and Seefer bit back a grin. “Um, name?” He pointed to himself. “Harry please.”</p><p>The noise CT-897 made indicated that he would not be calling Harry by name any time soon. Ricochet, however, paused and then took a few steps to stand in front of Harry. He pulled his bucket off so that Harry could look him in the eye. “I’m Ricochet,” he said intently. “I – Sketch is my batchmate. I just – <em>thank you </em>commander.”</p><p>“Um,” Harry said and Seefer hoisted his crate up.</p><p>“Ricochet,” he said calmly, pointing at the man.</p><p>“Ricochet,” Harry parroted obediently and Seefer could see the moment his brother melted under that bright smile.</p><p>“Him?” Harry asked, looking at CT-897 and the medic paused. Seefer’s grin was a little rueful.</p><p>“CT-897,” he said, and Harry looked a little disgruntled.</p><p>“Hard,” he sighed. “Seetieighnine,” and then he sighed again. He turned big, wounded eyes on CT-897 who started to look a little trapped. Seefer laughed a little, then tapped Harry on the shoulder.</p><p>“Kid,” he said, “We’ve got to go.”</p><p>Harry’s head sank forward a bit in defeat. “Tomorrow?” he asked hopefully and Seefer ruffled his hair.</p><p>“I’ll try, but no promises,” he said. The kid seemed to accept that and turned back to squint at Sketch dubiously.</p><p>“I can,” he gestured and that set CT-897 off.</p><p>“Absolutely <em>not</em> commander,” he snapped. “We need to get you something to eat, the general mentioned calorie deficiency, and you’re already looking pale. Sketch is going to recover now and you need to look after <em>yourself</em>-”</p><p>Seefer slipped out as Harry stared at the medic, his turn to look trapped.</p><p>He couldn’t help the little bounce in his step as they headed out, full of relief that Harry was <em>fine</em> and still looking out for himself – he hadn’t been kicked down by the general just yet. Ricochet shoved him in the side and Seefer shoved back and they both scuffled for a second before returning to a steady, disciplined march.</p><p>“Just in time,” Merry greeted quietly as they deposited the empty crates. “General’s on a <em>warpath</em>.”</p><p>“Oh?” Seefer asked, his thoughts still hovering around Harry.</p><p>“Apparently we’re doing a big push tomorrow – the Council’s shipped in Skywalker and Kenobi and they fought – I dunno, a Sith or something,” Merry briefed under his breath. “There’s some disaster going on and they’re going to try and break the blockade, but we’re supposed to act as a big distraction – stop the Seppies from focusing on the city.”</p><p>“I thought the general wanted to fight,” Ricochet breathed back. “He was angry at being ordered to bunker in before.”</p><p>“He wants the main fight,” Merry said. “Doesn’t want the distraction. Doesn’t like Kenobi being here. Thinks we could take it without them.”</p><p>Seefer managed not to roll his eyes. Who’d take the hard fight when they could have reinforcements? They were all fighting the same war.</p><p>“Know when?” he muttered. Merry shook his head.</p><p>“Only know this much because Jaycee was on comms support. Else we’d be blind right up until we were storming the gates.”</p><p>There was shouting from outside and Seefer risked a glance outside. Two of the troopers had had their helmets off as they checked over the repulsorlift. Apparently Krell thought this was a “breach in discipline”. His lip curled a bit and he looked back down.</p><p>“We on mess duty now?” he asked and Merry looked down at his chart to check.</p><p>“Yep. You going to make us something nice tonight?” he asked in a fluttery, high-pitched voice. Seefer snorted.</p><p>“Sure,” he said. “I think we can manage some <em>really delicious</em> nutri-mash.”</p><p>“Delightful,” Merry said insincerely. “I hope I get the biggest portion.”</p><p>Seefer shook his head and took another look outside. The shouting had stopped at least and Krell had turned away. Seefer frowned for a second – was that? Had his eyes been <em>red</em>? No, had to have been a trick of the light.</p><p>“We’ll do our best,” he said, trying to inject cheer into his voice. “Got to make sure you’re good and strong for the good of the Republic.”</p><p>“Kriff off,” Merry grumbled cheerfully and they turned to leave.</p><p><em>Had to have been a trick of the light</em>, Seefer repeated to himself. Anyway, weren’t Sith eyes supposed to be yellow?</p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The camp was eerily empty. Harry paced backwards and forwards irritably. He – didn’t want to be <em>out</em> there exactly, because out there was apparently a massive battle against the droids, opening up another <em>front</em> according to Master Krell so that some other people could do something else. Harry hadn’t understood much beyond the fact that the 304<sup>th</sup> had been expected to go and fight and he was being left behind. But- still. He might not want to be out there, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be left behind either.</p><p>Krell had been very clear about the matter – <em>“You will be nothing more than a distraction”</em> he’d said. “<em>Especially without your own lightsabre”. </em>Which – Harry <em>got</em> but it still meant that he was left behind waiting for news. Seefer was out there and probably Ricochet too and Harry <em>wasn’t</em>. What if they got hurt without him?</p><p>There were still a few troopers left behind; basic security along with CT-897, waiting for an influx of brothers to the infirmary. Harry had gone over there earlier only to be shooed out, CT-897 not wanting him to exhaust himself before he had to. He’d have to make sure that he was in the infirmary when people started returning, so that Master Krell didn’t find something else for him to do. Harry wouldn’t put it past the Besalisk to decide that they suddenly needed another meditation session, although he seemed to find Harry’s interest in healing an acceptable pastime.</p><p>Harry was just fed up of being so <em>confused</em> all the time. It felt like he existed in a constant state of not knowing what was going on, even as Master Krell prodded him for information on – on Hogwarts and Diagon Alley and Voldemort and the Philosopher’s Stone. He scowled at the ground unhappily. He was in the middle of a war and he didn’t know who was involved in it – clones vs. droids was about as far as he’d got and Krell had given him a lecture on the ungratefulness of Separatists at one point.</p><p>If he let his mind go weird and fuzzy, he thought he could feel Master Krell’s emotions in a tight little ball at the back of his head. <em>Exhilaration</em> was the main feeling which – probably meant it was all going okay? Harry didn’t like having someone there though, so he made sure to poke up his little internal wall as best he could. Sometimes he thought he could feel <em>that</em> too, a shimmering wall of light that smelt faintly of a delicate perfume. It made him feel safer when he could feel movement that <em>wasn’t him</em> on the edge of his mind.</p><p>He missed Ron and Hermione. He missed the way that Hermione would have already found a way around the language issue and no doubt have all the information on what was going on. He was doing his best, wrangling what he could out of Master Krell and eavesdropping on every other conversation that passed by him to catch whatever words he could. He wished he had something to write down what he’d learnt so he didn’t forget it, but apparently paper didn’t exist in this place and every time he got hold of a datapad Master Krell confiscated it off him. Apparently he’d special ordered a ‘pad that was set up with parseltongue script but until then everything was off limits.</p><p>There was sudden chatter nearby, the troopers snapping something out – movement seen near the outskirts of the camp. Harry kept an eye on the bond with Krell and frowned. It probably wasn’t him. He didn’t feel that close and the Besalisk was still caught up in joyful adrenalin.</p><p>“<em>Commander,” </em>one of the clones was saying to him urgently. Harry wasn’t sure why the man thought his name was Commander but he supposed now wasn’t the time to raise it. He frowned and tried to pick out the words in Basic that he recognised – droids, go.</p><p>A little bit of fear crept into him. There were droids coming? He looked up at the clone. “Droids how many?” he said urgently. As to go – where was he supposed to go? He figured he was probably safer surrounded by armed men than hiding anywhere in the base.</p><p>There were a lot of words now, all unfamiliar, and the trooper was gesturing. Harry squinted a little bit. “A legion or a battalion?” he tried again. He knew those were how the troopers were organised – four <em>battalions</em> to a <em>legion</em>.</p><p>The trooper stuttered a little. “A battalion?” he offered, and then – was one of the words <em>less</em>? Harry thought so. Okay, so somewhere under a battalion was advancing on the camp. He looked around. Krell had left maybe thirty or forty men behind. Harry didn’t think he could do the <em>don’t notice me</em> on all of them. Maybe he could levitate a speeder on top of the droids?</p><p>The trooper seemed to decide that enough was enough and picked Harry up, moving him towards the nearest defensible position. Harry flailed a little but – as long as he could <em>see</em> the droids he could probably do something. The troops were darting into their own positions, blasters held ready.</p><p>Then – he could see them coming up, <em>clankers approaching</em> as one of the clones called in a low voice. Harry swallowed and then flinched, hard, at the first sound of blaster fire. The clone nearest to him said something in a reassuring voice, raising his own blaster to take a shot.</p><p>“I’m a Gryffindor,” Harry whispered to himself. “I’m brave enough for this.” He wasn’t sure that he <em>was </em>though, but he guessed the Hat wasn’t here to argue with him now. One- two of the <em>clankers </em>fell, but there was a choking cry that suggested that a clone had been hit. Harry thought – he thought they were close enough now. He pulled out his wand and then – it felt almost second nature to have <em>petrificus totalus</em> flowing out, a droid collapsing with its legs bound together. A second spell missed by a hands-length and Harry had no time to scold himself the way he wanted to.</p><p><em>Wingardium leviosa</em> let him throw a droid like a bowling pin, knocking down four in a metallic clatter. The clones took advantage of the noise, blasters lighting up constantly now. The whole place was starting to stink of smoke. <em>Less than a battalion, </em>Harry told himself. He wished he’d learnt more spells. Dancing pineapples didn’t sound very useful right now although – another spell had a droid turning to dance into its neighbours, legs tangling up and pinning them down. Harry was breathing hard but all he could hear was – was the noise when a trooper got hit. <em>I can heal them later</em> he thought determinedly.</p><p>The reassuring clone tapped him on the shoulder, pointing urgently to droids that looked like they were going to flank them. Harry focused hard and their legs snapped neatly – and a shower of blaster bolts took care of any remaining problems there. He felt slow and clumsy even as he followed instructions further, aiming wherever he was pointed – it felt like it was never going to end-</p><p>-until there were no more targets. Harry blinked. He was panting. He felt sick. There was – there was someone moaning nearby and Harry tried to move towards him, but reassuring clone grabbed him by the shoulders saying something sharp. Not safe yet maybe? A group of five clones moved out cautiously, scouting out further into the base in case of any stragglers.</p><p>Harry felt dimly like he should be doing something but instead he waited there with the hands strong on his shoulders and let his head drop. The medic was there with a kit, bent over someone. Harry made a sound of appeal and got another <em>“Not yet</em>.”</p><p>Finally, finally, Harry was let go and then CT-897 was there and pushing him towards the infirmary as the wounded were moved. He could help, he could do this. It felt like he just- blinked and then he was staring at a bloody wound, his head spinning. He put his hands on it and focused but – he wasn’t even allowed to heal it properly, it felt like he’d barely started knitting it together before he was pointed at someone else, and then someone else and then- blackness.</p><p>…</p><p>Krell was sat by his bedside when he crawled back into consciousness. The Besalisk was tapping away on a datapad with a furious scowl on his face and his robes had a few streaks of dirt on them. Beyond that, he looked no different to how he’d always looked. Harry wondered if he could go back to sleep before Master Krell noticed he was awake. His head felt <em>awful</em>.</p><p>“<em>We talked of limits, did we not Padawan?” </em>Krell said, not looking up from whatever he was writing.</p><p>Harry paused for a second, trying to decide whether or not to fake it out. He didn’t think much of his chances. “<em>Yes,” </em>he responded a little sullenly.</p><p>“<em>Yes…?” </em>Krell trailed off expectantly.</p><p>“<em>Yes Master Krell,”</em> Harry said. “<em>The main battle – did it-?”</em></p><p><em>“We did our part satisfactorily,” </em>Krell said dismissively. “<em>I have not yet heard from the Council on Kenobi and Skywalker’s success. If they fail, it was due to their own actions.”</em></p><p>That wasn’t precisely what Harry had been asking. Was it worth pushing on the troops’ survival?</p><p>“<em>Is the legion still operational?” </em>he finally settled on as being sufficiently detached.</p><p><em>“Replacements will have to be shipped in,” </em>Krell said. <em>“That was to be expected however.</em>”</p><p>Harry felt cold. <em>“The infirmary,”</em> he tried. “<em>I could-”</em></p><p><em>“Don’t be ridiculous,” </em>Krell said flatly. “<em>You’ve already exhausted yourself, I’ll not tolerate further action from you. Your duty is to rest and to heal.”</em></p><p><em>“But,” </em>Harry said desperately and he could feel a flare of anger from Krell that had him biting his tongue. Take this loss, he knew. Sometimes he just had to say “Yes Aunt Petunia” and “Absolutely Aunt Petunia” even when he really hadn’t wanted to – some things he wasn’t going to win. It didn’t change the fact that his <em>“Yes Master Krell,</em>” tasted like ashes in his mouth.</p><p>“<em>You feel unsettled, Padawan,” </em>Krell said, mild now that he’d got his victory. “<em>We will have to meditate together.”</em></p><p>Harry fought back a grimace. <em>“Yes Master Krell,” </em>he agreed, struggling into a seated position. Krell’s eyes were steady on him now, narrowed in thought.</p><p><em>“You must accept that you do not know everything, Padawan,” </em>he said. “<em>I do this for your own good.”</em></p><p>Harry bowed his head.</p><p>Krell set his datapad aside with a firm click, his broad lips drawing into a flat line. “<em>We shall meditate now then,” </em>he said. “<em>It seems that I have been insufficiently diligent with the basics of the Jedi way. We have talked on attachment – it is unacceptable. The Jedi’s control is for the greater good.”</em></p><p>Harry’s head throbbed. The words seemed familiar somehow, but he couldn’t remember from where. “<em>Yes, Master Krell. I understand,” </em>he said.</p><p>“<em>Then focus on your breath – breathe in slowly, feel your lungs expand; breathe out.”</em></p><p>Harry let his eyes slip closed obediently. It seemed to take less effort than before to slip into a sea of stars stretching out in front of him. His headache felt less strong as he took his deep breaths.</p><p>His shimmering light was still there and he took some comfort from that. There seemed to be – a channel though, pressing against it; a deep, ruby red colour. Tiny pieces had crept through the shield like a winding vine and Harry frowned a little, studying it. When he reached out to the pieces it felt almost as though Krell’s voice were speaking in his ear – <em>“Our bond, Padawan</em>.”</p><p>There were other things there – not just his shields and the bright red bond. There was something that Harry couldn’t describe much beyond a <em>blackness</em>, an inky darkness that seemed almost to writhe as he watched. It didn’t belong there, he knew that with a bone-deep certainty. It was <em>wrong</em>.</p><p>Harry withdrew and focused back on his breathing. He shifted a little and Krell let him come back to himself with a sly little smirk. “<em>Do you feel more settled now, Padawan?” </em>he enquired. Harry didn’t know how much time had passed but the shadows seemed longer.</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>,” he lied. “<em>Master Krell, I’m tired.”</em></p><p><em>“Then sleep,” </em>Krell told him. “<em>I will wait on word from the Council. Tomorrow, we may discuss your actions in battle.”</em></p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I never want to see this hellhole of a planet again,” Seefer said a little meditatively as the ship was readied for launch. The recall order had come a few hours previously – Kenobi had captured the Separatist General Loathsom and the Republic thought it appropriate to reduce the clone presence on Christophsis.</p><p>Ricochet hummed beside him. Sketch had been discharged from the med-bay with strict instructions to rest – as far as Seefer could see that was near the only good news they’d had over the past few days. The “distraction” ordered had decimated their ranks and although the legion was still relatively new to him he still found himself looking around for particular individuals that weren’t there to answer any more.</p><p>Krell, of course, was completely unharmed and disinterested in much beyond lurking around Harry as far as Seefer could see. He’d barely manage to brush a few words of reassurance over him when passing in the hallway but – Seefer thought Harry had appreciated it.</p><p>“If you’re going to avoid planets that our brothers have died on, there’s going to be a whole lot of the galaxy that you’re missing out on by the end of this,” Cricket said dryly.</p><p>“There’s a cheering thought,” Seefer said. “Thanks for bringing joy to my day.”</p><p>“I do try,” Cricket said solemnly. “By the way – have you seen the new requisition lists?”</p><p>Ricochet and Seefer cocked their heads in question and Cricket chuckled a little bit. “897’s been at them – apparently the Commander fainted after overdoing it for the fourth time in the med-bay and he reckons it’s because his blood sugar gets low. He’s doubled the request for portable snacks and suggested that it should be part of the standard carry kit which needed the General’s sign-off – and when the General found out it was for <em>his padawan</em> suddenly the requisition list just expanded.” His voice sounded like he was grinning wildly. “Pretty much everything we’ve been trying to slide through over the past few months just – approved. Just like that.”</p><p>Seefer considered that carefully. “Harry’s not eating enough?” he asked in concern. “He was skinny to start off with, if he’s losing weight-”</p><p>Cricket groaned and shoved a hand in Seefer’s face. “Your kid is <em>fine</em>, the General flutters nearly as much as you do.” He put on a sepulchral tone. “Do not disturb me, I will be meditating with my Padawan for the <em>next twelve hours</em>. He is not to exhaust himself in healing. Do not disturb the Commander with reports, I will handle them.”</p><p>“It’d be a bit hard for the Commander to work on reports when he can’t speak Basic,” Ricochet pointed out. “And you can’t deny that he works hard for us – CT-897 says half the men wouldn’t be walking without the Commander’s help.”</p><p>“Oh <em>Force</em>,” Cricket groaned. “I didn’t realise that sending you to the med-bay with <em>that one</em>,” and he nodded his head towards Seefer, “Would result in two of you fuckers.”</p><p>Ricochet set his shoulders for a fight and Cricket waved a hand.</p><p>“No, no, obviously I’m not saying anything bad about the Commander,” he said. “Relax, I’m just saying that the General is clearly much more fond of his Padawan than he is of us <em>and that’s not a bad thing.</em>”</p><p>“Harry’s eleven,” Seefer grumbled and Cricket visibly moved his head from side to side in a ‘yeah, yeah’ movement.</p><p>“It is a bit strange how much they meditate,” Seefer conceded after a moment and manfully ignored the muffled <em>is that just because it means you can’t hover over him? </em>“I was looking for anything on how the Jedi trained but there really isn’t much.”</p><p>“Jedi 101?” Cricket snarked. “How to train your baby Jedi for dummies? You looking to usurp the General?”</p><p>Seefer looked at Ricochet briefly and they moved in sync to force Cricket into a headlock. A quick scuffle later and his helmet was off and he was laughing in defeat. “Okay, okay, I give,” he said. “I’ll be nice.”</p><p>“I was looking,” Seefer said with some dignity, “On how to appropriately support my commanding officers.”</p><p>Cricket managed to suppress whatever comment first sprung to his lips there. Seefer eyed him carefully. “Speaking of commanding officers,” he said. “Looks like we’re getting another two battalions shipped in before we hit hyperspace. Have to make sure we’re up to strength again.”</p><p><em>Nice and replaceable </em>Seefer thought but didn’t say. “Captains?” he asked instead. A decent chunk of their command core had fallen over the past few weeks. The CC commander – CC-3397 – was still alive, as was one of the captains but other than that they needed replacements.</p><p>“The two new ones will bring their own captains,” Cricket said. “Captain Ash is still in place and it looks like CT-3826 is getting a promotion.”</p><p>Ricochet winced a little. “We’re getting reshuffled under Ash, right?” he checked. “26 is fine but…”</p><p>Cricket shrugged. “My information only goes so far,” he said. “I’ll let you know as soon as we find out.”</p><p>The was the judder of the ship starting up and Seefer nodded to the other two. “Should go strap in,” he said, and Cricket snorted even as they started moving.</p><p>“Yes, <em>buir</em>,” he said and Ricochet flicked the back of his helmet before tilting his head towards Seefer.</p><p>“How’d you get your name, anyway?” he asked. “You’ve not told anyone.”</p><p>Seefer shrugged easily. “Kid couldn’t pronounce my ID,” he said. “Seefer seemed as good as anything.”</p><p>Cricket let out a huff. “Think 897 might be close to picking something for same kriffing reason. This is <em>not</em> how names are supposed to work.”</p><p>Ricochet elbowed him. “You got yours because you got spooked by the sound of <em>crickets</em>,” he said and Cricket elbowed back.</p><p>“We don’t have ‘em in Kamino!” he protested. “They’re just this weird – <em>crickety</em> sound.”</p><p>A passing trooper tapped the wall three times and the group fell silent, moving into military standard walk. <em>General ahead. </em>Krell had a proprietary hand on Harry’s shoulder, the other three tucked into his robes. He was hissing something that had Harry looking particularly blank-faced.</p><p>Seefer snapped an obedient salute, not dropping it until Krell nodded a little disdainfully to allow them to continue moving. Harry’s eyes flickered over them and he smiled – just a little – before going back to pretending to listen.</p><p>They moved to strap themselves in in silence, although Ricochet took a moment when he took in just how many empty seats there were now. <em>Another two battalions, </em>Seefer thought. That was without counting his own battalion which – they’d checked, he was near enough the only survivor there.</p><p>“Your previous General,” Ricochet more breathed than said. Seefer waited for the rattling from hitting orbit to settle before he responded.</p><p>“Overwhelmed. Unsuited to battle.” His words were colder than he expected than to be. The reluctant, “He tried,” didn’t convey the – the confusion that the Jedi were supposed to be theirs, were supposed to know how to use them properly but all they’d got was a confused-looking knight who’d asked if they were <em>very certain </em>that there was no way to negotiate.</p><p>“Him or ours?” Cricket murmured, and Seefer didn’t even have to think.</p><p>“<em>Him</em>,” he said vehemently and the other two said nothing.</p><p>…</p><p>The command ship was at least a nice break from on-planet. There was a rec room, sonic showers that actually more or less worked and best of all – enough other Generals that Krell was in briefings three quarters of every day.</p><p>The 304<sup>th</sup> were careful to <em>hold the discipline expected</em> <em>of them</em>, as Krell had informed them sharply before boarding. A couple of them eyed the patterns their brothers had painted on their armour enviously but none of them were stupid enough to go for the paint themselves.</p><p>The other Generals were – fine, was the best word Seefer could use. His brothers seemed starry-eyed enough about them, but he’d heard Skywalker described as <em>reckless</em> which he knew only meant one thing. “They’ve got a baby too,” Merry had observed cheerfully – and they had indeed; a young togruta who bounced around following her Master like an akk-hound.</p><p>“A baby that’s three years older than ours,” Seefer grumbled. “And just because other people are doing it doesn’t make it alright.”</p><p>Krell seemed to keep Harry more or less occupied and more or less far away from the other Jedi – every time Seefer saw him now he had a datapad in hand. He’d caught a few glances at the screen and it was filled with a strange sibilant-looking script. “Jedi history,” Harry had said glumly when he’d caught a few moments alone, and then some grumbled words about <em>Binns</em>. He’d sent him a much more mischievous look when he’d managed to find some kind of audio dictionary and suddenly his vocabulary exploded when they were alone.</p><p>The other Generals did seem to note the avoidance. “We don’t see much of your Padawan,” Kenobi said genially as they left the latest meeting. Seefer was stood at attention outside the room as they moved out.</p><p>“He has his lessons to do,” Krell said, looking disinterested in the conversation.</p><p>“Surely some socialisation would be good for him – you said he was from one of the satellite temples?”</p><p>“My Padawan doesn’t speak Basic,” Krell said shortly. “It is forbidden in his culture for the youth.”</p><p>That seemed to take Kenobi aback for a long second. “And – that works with the troops?” he asked politely. They were moving out of earshot now and Seefer didn’t dare follow them.</p><p>“They make do,” Krell said. “You know that we respect the parents’ culture when they choose to give their children over.”</p><p>“Of course, of course,” Kenobi said, his voice fading away. Seefer didn’t bother not to scowl. <em>Of course? </em>What was <em>of course </em>about it?</p><p>The trooper on the other side of the door looked at him in curiosity. His shoulder pad was painted in 501<sup>st</sup> blue. “Your Commander doesn’t speak <em>Basic?</em>” he asked incredulously. Seefer bristled immediately.</p><p>“Our Commander also doesn’t go running off into a warzone against orders,” he snapped and left to the sound of spluttering. Like <em>Tano</em> was better than Harry.</p><p>They were all distracted though – Cricket heard rumours of Hutts and a kidnapping; Merry had heard mentions of Ryloth; and there were always more battles and always more deaths coming filtering through the channels. Seefer figured that he had no say on any of it and he might as well wait for orders. That freed up space to do his best to corner Harry and bully him into laughing whenever no one else could see.</p><p>He looked a little tired and a little worn, but Poms – as CT-897 had named himself (“the Commander said I was just like his old Healer, Madame Pomfrey, so I figured it was as good a name as any”) – wasn’t too concerned. Krell had said it was because of the lack of Living Force in space. Apparently that helped Harry in his healing and without it he was pulling off energy stores which – well, Seefer had stuffed his armour full of the snacks as soon as they came through, as had half the other troopers. Every time Harry went wandering by a pack of dried fruit would end up his hand, much to his bewilderment.</p><p>He was munching on a pack of pallie as he poked at his datapad now. Seefer craned his head over from where the kid was tucked against his side in his squad’s dorm room. Krell was due to be occupied for the rest of the afternoon. “Anything interesting?” he asked mildly, and Harry scowled up at him.</p><p>“No,” he said. “Blah, Jed’ai Order formed many years ago. Warrior monks. Good force, bad force.” He stuck his tongue out. “Sith dead but not now.” He shrugged. “<em>Always </em>Sith,” he grumbled a bit. “Voldemort was Sith. Not good.”</p><p>“Voldemort?” Seefer asked. The name was unfamiliar.</p><p>Harry pointed to his scar. “Tried to kill,” he said a little bit proudly. Seefer stiffened, as did his other brothers in the vicinity.</p><p>“A Sith lord tried to kill you?” he said and was proud of how calm his voice was. Harry waved a hand.</p><p>“When baby,” he said dismissively and then paused a little sheepishly. “And when found – in city.” He smiled up at Seether. “Gone now.”</p><p>A Sith lord had tried to kill Harry back in Crystal City. Seefer could feel the blood pounding in his ears. “Dead?” he asked very carefully and Harry shrugged a little.</p><p>“Gone,” he said with a sigh and then powered off his datapad. “Everything gone,” he said sadly.</p><p>Seefer wanted to push but instead he pulled Harry into a tight hug. “The general knows?” he checked and Harry nodded into his chest.</p><p>“Master Krell says no Sith around,” he said. “He,” and then a wiggle of his fingers that meant something to do with the Force, “watches.”</p><p>Seefer nodded slowly and glanced up at his brothers who nodded back. Whether Krell was watching or not, they’d be sure to up their own guard.</p><p>“Apparently Kenobi had a run in with a Sith apprentice down on Christophsis,” Ricochet murmured when Harry had departed a few hours later. “Or dark acolyte or whatever the kriff we’re calling people who wave red lightsabres around now.”</p><p>“Got away?”</p><p>“Naturally,” Ricochet said and Seefer hummed grimly.</p><p> “How do you take down a dark Force user?” he asked. No one was getting to Harry. There was a snort from the bunk above – CT-4111.</p><p>“On the whole, it seems like we don’t,” he said. “Or we just throw as many Jedi as possible at them.”</p><p>Seefer had no particular issues with throwing Krell in between Harry and potential rampaging Sith Lords but – “That’s not really a reliable tactic,” he said disapprovingly.</p><p>“What, you want to be the one who lets the General know we’re trying to work out how to take down Force users?” CT-4111 asked – and okay, yeah, that was an issue.</p><p>“Explosives might do it,” Blast said thoughtfully from the side. “If you had enough of them.”</p><p>“Okay,” Ricochet said with a heavy sigh. “We know how to keep our mouths shut, so let’s list out what we can do. Explosives are a possibility-”</p><p>“Only so many blaster bolts you can dodge,” CT-4111 contributed.</p><p>“There are cuffs that stop you from using the Force I think.”</p><p>Seefer felt a little bit of tension evaporate. Sith or not, they’d do what they could.</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you to everyone who left a review - it's massively motivating! As a quick note, we are now not even pretending to go near canon for... a good few chapters. Timeline is approximately midway through 22 BBY (maybe).</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry was sad when they left the command ship. It wasn’t that the presence of Jedi had particularly interested him – from what he could tell they all seemed to sit in meetings all day while looking very grim. They had kept Krell occupied though and in return he’d only had to pretend to play dumb with the orange <em>togruta </em>(Ahsoka?) tried to speak to him. He was quick enough to avoid them most of the time which kept Krell in a better mood than he’d be otherwise.</p><p>He’d miss his time with the clones though – with Seefer and Ricochet and Blast and even occasionally Cricket. Poms he could still talk to although it seemed to be accompanied by regular lectures on how he needed to sleep more. Harry deliberately pretended not to understand those.</p><p>He poked thoughtfully at his datapad. They were being sent out to a jungle moon – and wasn’t <em>that </em>a crazy thought? He, Harry Potter, was officially a <em>space traveller</em>. Dudley would be sick with jealousy. Harry almost didn’t regret the whole – mess when he thought about it like that.</p><p>Apparently wherever they were relocating to was the only inhabitable satellites of a mining planet – a mining planet that was a good source of key materials used in the droids’ construction. They were to secure the control base and hold it for the next few months. Minimal combat expected.</p><p>Krell had objected to the less-strategic placement but a large, dark-skinned human had put a stop to that quickly according to the clone who’d been on duty. “You can’t expect us to send a newly bonded Master-Padawan pair into the centre of combat,” he’d said flatly over the – holocomm? “Also, Master Nu wants to know when the data transfer for your Padawan will be sent over for filing.”</p><p>“<em>You have studied your objectives</em>?” Krell said and Harry blinked up at him. When had he got there? “<em>You should be more conscious of your surroundings,” </em>Krell said. He sounded disapproving. “<em>A Jedi must be present in the here-and-now and be aware of what the Force has to tell them.”</em></p><p><em>“Yes, Master Krell,” </em>Harry said obediently. He considered adding a <em>“Thank you Master Krell,” </em>but decided that would be overkill. Krell had a much finer sense than Uncle Vernon had had for when he was being mocked.</p><p>Krell raised what on a human might be considered an eyebrow – it was hairless, but Harry got the point anyway. “<em>We are to take possession of the control base on Eskilon-5. No droids anticipated. Local fauna potentially hostile. The base is the central location for coordinating the mining ships that harvest ores from the gas giant Eskilon.” </em>Krell hummed and waited expectantly. Harry let his shoulders droop.</p><p>“<em>I am not to get involved in combat. I am to stay behind clone troopers while they search the base. I am not to go to the infirmary without your specific permission which will not be granted until the base is confirmed as clear.”</em></p><p><em>“Precisely,” </em>Krell said firmly, a hand coming around to land heavily on his shoulder. Harry managed not to fidget. “<em>You may be anxious to prove yourself in combat, but it is yet early days Padawan. My first Padawan – your sibling – did not see combat until they had been with me four years. Jedi are precious and should not be unnecessarily risked.”</em></p><p><em>At least not when there are clones available to die in their place</em>, Harry thought a little bitterly. There were two new battalions filling up space on their transports and he didn’t like it. He didn’t recognise any of them and it felt like – like they were just being marked as interchangeable. It was really hard to learn their IDs as well, and the whole listing out numbers was difficult – sometimes it felt like his mouth was tripping over the syllables.</p><p>“<em>Yes, Master Krell,” </em>he acknowledged when the silence was getting too long. <em>“What am I learning today?”</em></p><p>“<em>Meditation,” </em>Krell said calmly and Harry fought back a groan. <em>Always </em>meditation, Krell telling him to <em>“Focus,” </em>and to “<em>Accept the bond</em>.” His white shield did well to hold it back and over the past week or so he thought he’d figured out a way to make it glow stronger, make that <em>blackness</em> cringe away from it.</p><p>“<em>Meditation is the foundation of all Jedi arts,” </em>Krell said sternly, noticing his dismay. <em>“Had your temple been properly taught, you would have been meditating from the age your Force talents first manifested.”</em></p><p><em>“There was a lot to learn,” </em>Harry said a little defensively, and Krell waved a hand.</p><p>“<em>Yes, and your teachers seemed to think acting like the witch-sisters of Dathomir served them better than behaving as true Jedi,” </em>he said contemptuously. “<em>Have you not seen the way your abilities have developed since focusing on the true art? None of this – foolishness of potions and illusions of mice turning into teacups.”</em></p><p>Harry tried to imagine Professor McGonagall’s face at being told transfiguration was a “<em>foolish illusion</em>” and bit his tongue. And Snape -! He could imagine the Besalisk and the Potion Master facing off, both reaching for snide, cutting comments. He wasn’t convinced who would win between the two – nor was he certain who he’d be cheering for.</p><p>Krell waited for his argument and then continued smoothly on as if he’d anticipated nothing of the sort. “<em>It is not just meditation we will focus on today, however,” </em>he said. “<em>Your sense of the present is woeful. Any youngling should be able to feel the approach of a master and you are old enough that you should certainly be able to trace any life forms that are nearby.”</em></p><p>Harry frowned. “<em>Like – radar?” </em>he asked a bit hopelessly, and Krell hissed a denial.</p><p>“<em>Sit,” </em>he was told. “<em>Breathe</em>.”</p><p>It was easier now to slip into that landscape – those stars stretching into the distance and that boiling red channel, more of a coursing river than the trickling stream it had been before. It still barely trickled through his shield and if he focused, he could build – a <em>reinforcement</em> of sorts, a growth around those shards of red. He tried to glimpse the darkness and frowned. It was faded – greying almost. The writhing <em>liveness</em> seemed focused elsewhere, twining itself around the river of red. Harry was relieved to not feel it pressing against his shields but- was the red darker than it had been before? He wasn’t sure. It looked like there were vines wrapped around it, thickening and breaking into it.</p><p>He pulled away a little uneasy, refocusing on Krell’s voice. “<em>Your mind is a confine but you are a being of the force. Do not be bound by the flesh – send yourself outwards, let the universe be present in you. All things are part of the Living Force and the Living Force is in every breath you take.”</em></p><p>What was that even supposed to <em>mean</em>? He frowned and tried to imagine himself <em>stretching</em> but – did that take him outside his shields? He retreated a little bit and thought about it. Perhaps more like when he was healing – directing his being into another direction. If he kept it more diffuse, just <em>pushed </em>out-</p><p>It felt as though the world was muffled. There was a pulse – a long, booming heartbeat, a whale song across space. He breathed in and out and felt stars burst in his lungs. Was that – yes, Krell was there, such a tiny, infinitesimal being, but a spark that was brighter than the swarm of ants – clones? – near him. It was so hard to focus on them, like squinting the a microscope when if he just reached out there was all of Hogwarts around him.</p><p>A little spark waved at him and he blinked a face into sight, a mass of orange leathery skin covered by a dark mask and goggles. <em>You’re going a bit far youngling! </em>it called cheerfully, more impression than words, and Harry pulled back in confusion. It – waved? as he withdrew.</p><p><em>“Come back,” </em>Krell was hissing. “<em>You go a parsec when you should take a step. Pull yourself in again.</em>”</p><p> It felt like – like trying to fold a quilt into a handbag, folding himself in, focusing down again. His head felt as though he’d taken a bludger to it, thumping away, and Harry retched desperately. Nothing came out and he panted slowly, the imprint of stars behind his eyes.</p><p>“<em>No sense of restraint,” </em>Krell was muttering to himself when Harry could hear anything other that that rushing, booming heartbeat. “<em>No control, reckless Padawan of mine.” </em>One of his big hands was patting Harry’s hair slowly. <em>“And the Council calls Skywalker the Chosen One!” </em>He sounded utterly, viciously triumphant and Harry couldn’t stop the full body flinch that came at that. Krell paused.</p><p><em>“The Chosen One is a term that you are familiar with,” </em>he said with some certainty.</p><p>Harry felt as though this was something that he should be holding back, but his mind felt as though he’d been flayed open. All he could do was breathe and finally find awkward, stuttering words at Krell’s impatience. “<em>They – sometimes people called me the Boy-Who-Lived,” </em>he admitted finally. “<em>I lived when no one else did. Hermione – she said there were books that called me the Chosen One but- that doesn’t mean anything. I don’t – I’m not anything special.”</em></p><p><em>“Nothing special?” </em>Krell said contemptuously. <em>“Padawan, your healing will earn you your knighthood in time – if not your mastery. I did not give you that datapad so that you could exist in ignorance of the expectations of a Jedi, and I do not accept false modesty.”</em></p><p>Harry hunched in on himself but it didn’t seem like Krell needed a response. “<em>Skywalker should never have been given to a new knight – not with his potential. It was squandered by the blundering of a child promoted before his time. I will not waste your talent like that, my Padawan – my Apprentice.”</em></p><p>There was something subtly different about that last word in parseltongue, shades that Harry was too tired to decipher. His mind was flittering from one thought to another, unable to settle.</p><p>“<em>It was – big</em>,” he said finally and Krell hummed.</p><p>“<em>What do you sense now?”</em></p><p>Harry blinked a little. He felt raw, a big open wound but even so. “<em>Oh,” </em>he said a little dimly. “<em>There you are</em>.”</p><p>And there Seefer was, in the mess with Ricochet and Sketch to his side. Poms was scrubbing himself after a sonic shower, Blast was cleaning his armour with a rag – he was thinking that maybe red would be a nice colour but it wasn’t like they had any paint. Merry was saying something to Cricket who was trying to focus on overriding one of the datapads because he’d managed to filch a holo from the 501<sup>st</sup> and it was- it was-</p><p><em>“Breathe</em>,” Krell said, and Harry shuddered.</p><p>“<em>There’s so much,</em>” he said in a small voice. “<em>How do you stop it from being so much?”</em></p><p><em>“The Force knows what is important</em>,” Krell said. “<em>You must trust it to direct your senses. You do not need control, the Force will show you what it wants you to know.”</em></p><p>But that- it wasn’t how it <em>worked</em>, Harry wanted to say. Magic wasn’t sentient, not really. It was belief and direction and – and he <em>really</em> regretted not studying his books in more detail to find the words and the concepts he needed to express this. He licked his lips and tried to think it through, flinching at the thought of all that information crushing down on him again.</p><p>Maybe it was like Quidditch, he decided after a few moments. There was all the information around him, the players, the bludgers, his position against the quaffle – but he could filter it to focus down on that single flash of gold. He was open enough to know when to dodge but otherwise it was all on the snitch. So – the background noise of <em>where is danger</em> and the awareness of <em>where am I</em> and <em>where are my teammates – </em>not <em>what are they doing, how are they feeling</em>, just <em>where are they</em>. The clamour dimmed and Harry ran a hand over his nose and mouth. He was a little surprised to see a trickle of blood and Krell pushed him to his feet.</p><p>“Clone,” he barked and there was a sharp rap of acknowledgement on the door. “Enter – my Padawan requires an escort to the med-bay.”</p><p>“Yessir,” the clone snapped and Harry felt an arm tuck around his shoulders. “This way Commander.”</p><p>“<em>Follow him,” </em>Krell hissed and Harry nodded obediently, his feet moving almost despite himself.</p><p>“Issit far?” he slurred when they were out of earshot and the clone jolted a little at hearing Basic. <em>One of the new ones</em>, Harry realised a moment later.</p><p>“Nossir,” he got in cautious response. “Few minutes sir.”</p><p>“Oh,” Harry said. “Poms will upset.” He scowled a bit. Those weren’t the right words, wasn't the right grammar but- “Jedi stuff <em>sucks</em>,” he said vehemently and got a startled laugh in response. Good enough, he thought blurrily, and spent the rest of his time focusing on putting one foot in front of another.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>(“Do you think there’s something – a little strange in how Master Krell treats his Padawan?” Obi-Wan asked as the 304th departed in ordered ranks. “We certainly didn’t see much of the boy.”<br/>“Oh please,” Anakin scoffed. “I’m not even sure his Padawan <i>exists</i>.”)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Seefer twitched impatiently as Merry tweaked the software in his helmet. Cricket had managed to get hold of the Besalisk language kit while they were back on the command ship – “do <em>not</em> ask me where this came from because there is some <em>serious</em> cultural taboo around this and we are kriffed if anyone finds out we’ve got it” – and Merry figured he could slice it into their earpieces so they could at least understand what was being said. It’d be no good on speaking front but Seefer would take what he could get.</p><p>It was just – frustrating, having to snatch minutes here and there to try and fix up their buckets. Their luck had come through as it had for the past few months and 26 was their new commander. He was, Seefer thought with a grimace, <em>reliable</em> with all that that word entailed. Any hint of dissension in his ranks would be stamped on with every inch of force his new promotion gave him. That was why they were keeping the group small. Krell would not react well to being eavesdropped on.</p><p>Merry let out a little noise of triumph and sat back. “And we are a go,” he said with a wide grin. Ricochet passed his own helmet over silently and Seefer slipped his on. It didn’t feel any different, but he hadn’t expected it to.</p><p>“Thanks <em>vod,</em>” he said and he didn’t have to try to inject gratefulness into his voice.</p><p>“Just- don’t go and pin the Commander down <em>too</em> obviously,” Cricket said. Seefer shrugged, a little abashed.</p><p>“I can be careful,” he said and there were a few chuckles.</p><p>“Go be careful stacking out the storeroom then,” Cricket said dryly. “26 is going to want to see that we can be productive with our spare time.” He said the last few words in a mocking sing-song before frowning at where Merry was working. “You’re taking my place on the next patrol for this, you know.”</p><p>“The week-long run?” Seefer checked and groaned a little at Cricket’s smug nod. The jungle was already setting people’s nerves on edge – too noisy, too hot, too humid, and with far too many hostile creatures hanging around for unsuspecting clones to trip over. Jaycee had stumbled on top of a venomous lizard-like creature and had been dead before anyone had managed to grab the anti-venom out of their packs. “Fair,” he acknowledged. “I’m assuming you can get my name down on the official staffing.”</p><p>“You and a couple of others,” Cricket said. “The General thinks we need to be more thorough in our security.” He kept his voice admirably respectful and Seefer snorted as he pushed away.</p><p>“Storeroom 7?” he checked, and acknowledged Blast’s fist-bump on the way out.</p><p>Cricket was right about 26 coming to stick his nose in – he nodded in ample satisfaction at seeing Seefer marking out inventory and exchanged a few routine words during which the others managed to disappear from their location without a trace. Seefer had faith that by the evening they’d all have the software installed without anyone else being the wiser.</p><p>Seefer swung by the mess to grab his rations for latemeal before heading over to comms duty. It was as dull as it normally was but he didn’t quite dare distract his brothers in the room – he didn’t know any of the shinies well enough. He flicked through some of the more recent reports that were being circulated on the jungle’s inhabitants and grimaced at one particularly nasty looking feline. At least Krell wasn’t letting Harry go wander around out there. He did wonder why Harry hadn’t been given a lightsabre yet though – wasn’t that something all baby Jedi got at some point?</p><p>There was the buzz of requested contact coming through and Seefer blinked down at the control board. He hit the receive acceptance and gestured for one of the shinies to go running for Krell when a distinctly Jedi-looking being came up. They were – not a particularly attractive being, orange skinned with what looked like tentacles wound around ears, and a heavy dark mask covering both their eyes and their mouth with breathing apparatus.</p><p>“Sir,” Seefer saluted. “We’ve dispatched a runner for General Krell.”</p><p>“That’s kind of you,” the being rumbled in a loud voice, just short of a shout. Seefer managed not to bristle at the incongruity of voice and words. “I am Jedi Master Plo Koon. Who may I be speaking to currently?”</p><p>“CT-4387,” Seefer rattled out at a quick pace. He dropped his salute and fell into parade rest with no particularly intention of speaking further.</p><p>Jedi Master Plo Koon seemed to crane his head slightly, looking around the communications room. “Will Master Krell’s Padawan be joining us?” he asked and Seefer froze minutely.</p><p>“I’m afraid I don’t have that information sir,” he said, keeping his eyes fixed somewhere over Koon’s shoulder. Koon made a sound that Seefer couldn’t interpret.</p><p>“Is all well on Eskilon-5, CT-4387?” he asked. Seefer couldn’t read the being’s body language but whatever it was, he knew better than to criticise his commanding officer.</p><p>“Objectives under control, sir,” he said flatly. He didn’t offer anything else.</p><p>The door sliding open allowed him to turn on his heel and snap another sharp salute. Krell gestured languidly and Seefer moved obediently to the side by his other brothers.</p><p>“Master Koon,” the Besalisk greeted. He sounded – perhaps more respectful than he had around Kenobi and Skywalker.</p><p>“Master Krell,” the being nodded back. “We are finishing up with our mission in the next week and looking for an appropriate location to restock. Will we be able to stop over at Eskilon-5?”</p><p>“Of course,” Krell said smoothly. “We’d be honoured to host you.” He paused a little. “What travel time are you anticipating?”</p><p>“Presuming our mission finalises as expected, we should be in system in the next ten days,” Koon said. “We’re in particular need of medical supplies and blaster recharges – can I requisition deliveries to your base?”</p><p>“Supply time should be between twelve to fifteen days,” Krell said, thinking it over. “We’re in a non-hostile location so going a bit short on supplies for a few days will not be insupportable.”</p><p>Funny how they’d managed fourteen deaths over the past three days in a non-hostile location, Seefer thought a bit wryly. He briefly imagined Krell’s smoking corpse and then discarded the thought on the off-chance it was something Krell might be able to sense.</p><p>“Wonderful,” Plo Koon said and the skin around his covered eyes might have crinkled into a smile. “And your Padawan – are they well?”</p><p>Krell stiffened almost imperceptibly. “My Padawan?” he asked, and his voice had chilled a little.</p><p>“You had them sending their mind out to explore a little while back,” the other General said. “It was a brief encounter on my part, but I do always enjoy meeting our newest Padawans face to face.”</p><p>“I am sure my Padawan will enjoy that,” Krell said in a voice that suggested anything but. “Unfortunately, he is busy in the med-bay today.”</p><p>Nothing about Plo Koon’s expression changed. “Of course,” he acknowledged. “I’d not want to disturb him from his learning.”</p><p>Krell thawed a little. “He’s a talented healer,” he said in a voice that suggested at pride. “It’s a passion of his and I see no harm in allowing him to indulge occasionally.”</p><p><em>That</em> seemed to relax Koon a little, and those eye crinkles showed up again. “I hope that he’ll be able to demonstrate for me when we come by your way,” he said in that almost-shouting voice. “It’s a rare pleasure to see our younglings develop.”</p><p>Krell inclined his head and the conversation didn’t last much beyond that. There was a little scowl that came up on his face when the holo cut out. “<em>Ten days,</em>” he hissed to himself, and the auto-translator crackled quietly to life in Seefer’s ear. “<em>With the eclipse due in five.”</em> He paused, as if waiting for a response. One of his hands was spinning a red shard through his fingers, almost like a nervous twitch. “<em>The Force does not typically rely on such vagaries.” </em>The auto-translate didn’t assist in tone, but Seefer fancied there was a note of contempt at that point. There was a long pause, and then a final hissed, <em>“Very well</em>.”</p><p>Seefer made sure his eyes were drilled blankly away from Krell – one of the shinies was not so attuned however, and Krell snapped a sharp, “Mind your <em>betters</em>, clone,” that had him flinching desperately. Seefer was fairly certain he wasn’t imagining the red tinge to Krell’s eyes but he kept his jaw clenched shut.</p><p>Krell paused as if he were to say something, before shaking his head in contempt and sweeping out. There was an almost audible sigh of relief that crossed the room.</p><p>“<em>Kriff me</em>,” the scolded clone breathed out quietly. Seefer couldn’t help turning Krell’s words over in his head – what did an eclipse have to do with anything? The thought of their General being on the edge of a breakdown, imagining responses, didn’t inspire any faith either. He was erratic enough when following orders. Seefer shook his head slowly. He didn’t like this.</p><p>…</p><p>“I’m telling you, there’s nothing on this <em>Voldemort</em>,” CT-4111 said irritably. “We’ve gone through pretty much all the available data – if there’s anything more, it’s not publicly available.”</p><p>“There has to be <em>something</em>,” Seefer said, equally irritable. He was packing his kit for the patrol but couldn’t get his mind off the previous day’s encounter with Krell. “If Harry knows his name it has to have been mentioned somewhere. Someone must have put a bounty on his head or <em>something</em>.”</p><p>“<em>Vod</em>, I’m telling you,” CT-4111 sighed. “Literally the best match we’ve found is some ancient Jedi founding myth about the defeat of Vol Damoor.”</p><p>“What’s that say?” Seefer asked instantly. “Jedi do kriffing weird things, maybe he got frozen in carbonite or something.”</p><p>Merry snickered a bit to his side and CT-4111 groaned noisily.</p><p>“It’s just one of those standard coming of age myths,” he said in exasperation. “Way before the Jedi were even founded. You know, evil Lord Vol Damoor wages war against the noble telepathic, pre-Jedi people and kills wise old Master Dum Bel Door. Apprentice Gren Delward returns from exile on the planet Nurmengard, takes up his master’s sabre and defeats the evil lord in single combat, ushering in a golden age with leaders devoted to the greater good.” He wriggled his fingers around. “It’s from, like, 10,000 years before the founding of the Galactic City. Even carbonite would have turned to dust by now. The only reason that there’s even a record is because it’s considered one of the early precursors to the founding of the Jedi Order.”</p><p>Seefer conceded that one with a nod. He suspected CT-4111’s name was going to end up something to do with libraries. “Nothing else though?” he checked, and threw an extra couple of blaster charges into his bag.</p><p>“There was a Darth Victrun and a Darth Vowrawn according to the Jedi archives,” Ricochet contributed. “Both about four thousand years ago.”</p><p>“I hardly think an ancient dark lord from four thousand years ago is going to stick around just to attack your baby Jedi,” Cricket said pointedly and Seefer scowled at him.</p><p>“Harry wouldn’t lie,” he said defensively and Cricket rolled his eyes.</p><p>“No one’s saying that he’s lying <em>vod</em>,” he said. “I just don’t think Sith take out holo-pages any more. You know the Jedi thought they’d been wiped out.”</p><p>Like Seefer cared what the Jedi thought. He nodded a bit sourly. He hadn’t managed to catch any time with Harry since having the translators installed and putting that on top of Krell acting like – well, acting like Krell, it had him on edge.</p><p>“There’s something weird going on with the General,” he said, finally deciding that his kit was as ready as it would ever be.</p><p>Cricket smirked. “More than normal?” he asked. “Actually, he’s been pretty relaxed about all the paperwork recently. Hasn’t challenged any of the requests.”</p><p>“No, Seefer has a point,” Ricochet said. His own pack was by his feet. “Haven’t you noticed that he’s been – withdrawn?”</p><p>“Of course I’ve <em>noticed</em>,” Cricket said. “I’ve just been enjoying it too much to care.”</p><p>“He’s been carrying these red shards everywhere,” Blast said. “Keeps on holding ‘em up to the light.” He shrugged a little at Cricket’s look. “Once he was talking to himself,” he said meaningfully.</p><p>“Oh great. So the General’s on the edge of a mental breakdown is what you’re telling me,” Cricket drawled. “Seefer, I think I might have been hasty switching places with you for this patrol-”</p><p>“Too late to change it,” Ricochet said lightly. “Serves you right for dumping it on us.”</p><p>“You’ll keep an eye on Harry though,” Seefer more stated than said. “I don’t like leaving him behind when the General’s acting like this.”</p><p>“You don’t like when the Commander’s more than two metres away from you at any time,” Merry pointed out. “What’s new?” Cricket bumped fists with him.</p><p>“I <em>really</em> don’t like it this time,” Seefer ground out.  </p><p>“Yeah, yeah,” Cricket waved a hand. “We’ll look after your miracle baby. <em>You</em> just focus on still being alive when you come back from a week’s patrol.”</p><p>Seefer grunted sourly. “We’ll manage,” he said and swung his kit onto his back. He glanced over to Ricochet. “You good?”</p><p>His brother flashed him a thumbs up and Seefer rapped on Cricket’s helmet as they left. “He dies, you die,” he threatened half-heartedly and ignored the laughter that drifted after them.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Happy Monday! Things should be starting to speed up a little soon... :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Krell had been acting – off for a couple of days now, more so than usual. Harry frowned a little at another day coming to an end without the Besalisk having come by to insist that he focus on his training, or his reading, or general other ways in which he did not fit the perfect Padawan mould. It was much more pleasant not to have him around, but his fine-tuned sense of danger suggested that this was potentially not good for the future.</p><p>He wished Seefer was around but Seefer had been dispatched on a patrol a while back. When Harry cautiously stretched out his senses, he could feel the little flickering light well and healthy so he tried not to be too concerned. It was hard though.</p><p>Harry chewed on his lip a little thoughtfully. When he dropped into his mindscape to look at his training bond Krell felt quiescent on the other end. The blackness had all but disappeared now but the river was an unpleasantly murky colour, the original red now only showing in brief flashes. He grabbed a tray abruptly and flashed a brief smile at the trooper serving out the meal. If Krell wasn’t going to come and see him, he’d have to go and see the Besalisk however reluctant he was. Too much silence was bad news.</p><p>It wasn’t difficult to find Krell’s quarters – the Besalisk had insisted that his own were right next door, as was appropriate for a Padawan. Apparently in the temple it was expected for them to share quarters. Harry didn’t regret that that wasn’t possible here in the slightest.</p><p>He looked at the tray briefly and then extended his mind to keep it hovering by the side as he knocked on the door in sharp raps. Sometimes he still couldn’t get over how <em>cool</em> levitation was. Sure, the Force didn’t have the versatility of magic but still – wandless and wordless!</p><p>“I said I was <em>not to be disturbed!</em>” Krell roared from inside his quarters. Harry flinched, then considered this for a moment. Well, he was supposed to not understand Basic, wasn’t he? Self-preservation was squawking at him that this was a terrible idea, but he palmed the door open anyway and stepped inside.</p><p>“<em>Master Krell?” </em>he hissed, trying to put a note of confusion in his voice. “<em>You hadn’t eaten-” </em>he trailed off purposefully.</p><p><em>“</em>How <em>dare-” </em>Krell snarled furiously and then stilled when he saw Harry looking up at him. There was a pause in which he took a few slow breaths. “<em>Padawan,” </em>he hissed finally, the anger gone from his voice. “<em>What is wrong?”</em></p><p>Harry pretended not to be looking at what he was doing when he waved the tray forward. “<em>You missed dinner again, Master Krell,” </em>he said. “<em>You weren’t at any of the earlier meals either</em>.”</p><p>Krell blinked at him with a dazed look on his face. “<em>I – missed meals?” </em>he mused almost to himself. He cleared a space for the tray with an idle wave of one of his hands. His room was a mess which was unusual – Krell normally did not tolerate disorder. “<em>Why did you not send a clone with food?”</em></p><p>“<em>You wouldn’t let any of them in,” </em>Harry lied without a blink. Like he’d put any of the clones near Krell when he was in a temper.</p><p><em>“I,” </em>Krell said slowly. He looked – lost? “<em>I see.” </em>Harry floated the tray down and Krell began to pick at it slowly. “<em>I am – caught up in my calculations</em>.”</p><p>Harry glanced down at a datapad casually. It was filled with what looked like particularly complex arithmancy and he couldn’t say he recognised three quarters of the symbols. “<em>Are they important?” </em>he asked innocently. He wished he could take a record of it to show to – well, not to Seefer. Maybe to Cricket or Poms in his absence.</p><p>“<em>Very,</em>” Krell said. “<em>With them, I will forge a new way in the Force – a new mastery.” </em>There was a kind of vicious triumph about the words.</p><p>Harry swallowed a little.</p><p>“<em>Like the Living Force?” </em>he asked casually, and Krell waved a hand.</p><p>“<em>Nothing so mundane,” </em>he said and he seemed pleased at the interest demonstrated. “<em>There are ways from the time before, lost in the chaos of the various Sith wars. The Jedi lost many of the miracles they could achieve and we have fallen into – restrictions, closed minds.”</em></p><p><em>“Oh,” </em>Harry said and Krell leaned back.</p><p>“<em>You needn’t worry,” </em>he said. “<em>You are my Padawan, my Apprentice. In all things you will be by my side. That is the way of the Force.” </em>The words were possessive and so was the look in his eyes.</p><p>Harry flicked his eyes back to the datapads scattered around, the piles of flimsy. “<em>And these calculations will make you stronger, Master Krell?” </em>he asked. He wasn’t sure why Krell was in a talkative mood but he’d take advantage of it while he could.</p><p>“<em>There is a limitation,” </em>Krell admitted. “<em>I have not yet solved it. There needs to be a nexus but the-” </em>and he paused for a second over the next word. “<em>Resources available to me are limited in their power.”</em></p><p>“<em>The next delivery is due in seven days, Master Krell,” </em>Harry said. He had a nasty suspicion that Krell wasn’t talking about power cells though and he felt the confirmation in the benevolent smile directed his way.</p><p>“<em>As you say, my Padawan,” </em>Krell said. “<em>You may go now.” </em>He was already frowning back down at the material scattered around him and Harry decided not to test his luck further. As he exited, he thought he heard Krell murmur, <em>“The clones, yes – but what are you not telling me?”</em></p><p>…</p><p>He found himself puzzling over that interaction for the rest of the evening, not going to the infirmary as was his normal approach. He tucked himself into a small space in one of the storage rooms and tried to think. He didn’t miss his cupboard – he’d <em>never</em> miss it – but sometimes the confines helped him focus down, took away some of the distractions.</p><p>There were no conclusions he could reach. He just didn’t know enough.</p><p>“Commander?” someone asked in confusion and Harry glanced up. It was Blast, a pile of med-kit supplies in his arms. “What are you doing here?”</p><p>Harry frowned a little. He wanted to say <em>thinking</em> but he couldn’t find the word in Basic for it. “I sit,” he settled on finally and Blast stared at him from behind the blank helmet.</p><p>“Uh,” he said. “Commander, you can,” and he made an awkward hissing sound, “if you want.”</p><p>What the-? Harry didn’t know what the expression on his face looked like.</p><p>“I mean, the way you and the General like, <em>hiss</em>,” Blast said. “You can’t tell him.”</p><p>“<em>You mean Parseltongue?” </em>Harry finally asked. He had to focus to get the slippery words to work right when he wasn’t facing Krell but after all this time it was nearly second nature to him.</p><p>Blast paused as if listening to something. “Yeah,” he said in a pleased voice. “That.”</p><p>“<em>You can understand me?” </em>Harry snapped out in surprise, and Blast faltered a bit.</p><p>“You’re not –” and a word that Harry didn’t recognise, a rising question.</p><p>
  <em>“What?”</em>
</p><p>“Uh,” Blast tried. “Like – upset?”</p><p>“<em>Upset that you understand me?” </em>Harry was thoroughly confused, and then – “<em>Oh. Master Krell.”</em></p><p>“Yeah,” Blast said slowly. Harry shrugged.</p><p>“<em>Doesn’t bother me at all,” </em>he said. “<em>I won’t tell Master Krell. You should be careful though.”</em></p><p>Blast laughed, huffing a few words that sounded like agreement. “But,” he said. “Why are you – <em>here</em>?”</p><p>Harry hummed a bit. “<em>I was thinking,” </em>he said slowly. Should he share? <em>“Master Krell is – different.”</em></p><p>Blast nodded a little but didn’t say anything. “<em>He – is distracted</em>,” Harry said, trying to articulate what was bothering him. “<em>He has not scolded me in days.” </em>He paused a little and added wryly, <em>“I’ve not heard him shouting at any of you either.</em>”</p><p>“We’re not missing it,” Blast said, and Harry laughed a little.</p><p>“<em>But –” </em>Harry gestured a bit. “<em>Can’t you feel it? It feels too calm, like something bad is coming.”</em></p><p>Blast looked at him and muttered something about “weird Jedi stuff.”</p><p><em>“I’m not a Jedi,” </em>Harry snapped a little irritably. “<em>I don’t know why,” </em>and he stopped and shook his head. This wasn’t the time or the place. <em>“It feels like it did before Voldemort tried to steal the Stone.”</em></p><p>“Uh,” Blast said. He was beginning to look overwhelmed. “Maybe Seefer could-”</p><p>Harry sent him a flat look. “<em>Seefer’s not here</em>,” he said. <em>“He’s,” </em>and he focused a bit, finding that sensation in his head. “<em>About sixty miles that way</em>.” He pointed without looking but knew it was accurate.</p><p>“Okay,” Blast said. He looked like he was talking to himself. “Okay. So – an attack maybe? Have you told the General?”</p><p>Harry stared at him.</p><p>“Oh,” Blast said a little awkwardly. “Ash maybe? Or 26?”</p><p>Harry made a frustrated noise. “<em>And tell them what?” </em>he demanded. “<em>I had a bad feeling? No one ever listens to those!” </em>His thoughts flashed back to Professor McGonagall, “<em>Rest assured, no one can possibly steal it,”</em>, and he grimaced.</p><p>“<em>It – doesn’t feel like yet,” </em>he admitted reluctantly. “<em>Just, soon</em>.”</p><p>“Okay,” Blast said. “So we’ll go talk to Cricket and Merry and we’ll,” another unfamiliar word, “it out. It’ll be okay.”</p><p>Harry made a miserable sound, but slithered out of his spot anyway. “<em>I don’t like any of this,” </em>he said a little grumpily.</p><p>“You and me both, Commander,” Blast said. “You and me <em>both</em>.”</p><p>…</p><p>Cricket and Merry listened to Harry’s stumbling expression with the same grim expression on their faces. Sometimes Harry almost forgot they were clones, they felt so distinctive in his senses – other times, like now, it was impossible to forget.</p><p>“Nothing we can do,” Cricket said finally. It looked like the words hurt him. “You need to stay with one of us at all times, Commander.”</p><p>“Can you – describe this Voldemort to us?” Merry asked. “Does he have weaknesses?”</p><p>Harry made a face. “<em>He – was a Dark Lord,” </em>he tried to explain. “<em>He died when I was a baby – he tried to kill me and it bounced back.</em> <em>No one knows why.” </em>He abruptly wanted Seefer with him. Blast looked uncertain for a second, then reached out to pull him into a loose hug. Harry went gratefully.</p><p><em>“I was at school and – stuff happened</em>,” he said lamely. “<em>There was an artifact being kept there but Voldemort wanted to get to it. He – sent a troll and he- there was some other stuff. But near the end of the year, the Headmaster was called away. Voldemort went after the Stone. No one believed us, so we- me and two friends, we went after him.” </em>He stared at his hands. He wondered what had happened to Ron and Hermione when he had gone. <em>“He was – possessing one of my teachers,” </em>he said slowly. <em>“His face was on the back of Quirrell’s head and he was controlling him.”</em></p><p>He could still remember Quirrell’s cry of “<em>Master!</em>”</p><p>“<em>The Headmaster had made it so he couldn’t get the stone so he used me. He can- he can kill with words and can make ropes appear around you. Whenever he spoke it made my scar burn.” </em>He touched his scar gently. “<em>It’s where he tried to kill me the first time.” </em>He thought a little. “<em>I don’t know what else he can do</em>,” he said a little hopelessly. “<em>Anything the professors could do, I guess. Professor McGonagall could turn into a cat and make animals out of anything around her. Professor Flitwick used to make little tornadoes out of water as a game. Quirrell was supposed to be our defence professor.</em>” He paused. “<em>I saw some adults appear and disappear – they can teleport</em>.” He looked at them all. “<em>He might not have followed me,” </em>Harry said a little desperately. <em>“I – everyone was gone when I woke up the first time.”</em></p><p>“Oh <em>kriffing hell</em>,” Cricket muttered. Blast hugged Harry a little tighter. “A blaster can kill him though?”</p><p>“<em>There are shields that you can make,” </em>Harry gestured a little. “<em>They stop spells so I guess they’d stop blasters too. If he didn’t have a shield up though…?”</em></p><p>“Okay<em>,</em>” Merry said firmly. “We tell the captains that the Commander’s – <em>Jedi-sensed</em> something bad and we get everyone on alert.” He scrubbed at his face. “There has to be something,” he muttered to himself.</p><p>“And until then,” Cricket added. “You don’t go anywhere alone.”</p><p>Harry looked at him uncertainly. “<em>I need to go back to my quarters,” </em>he said and Cricket shook his head.</p><p>“You’re sleeping here, Commander,” he said firmly. “We’ve got the spare,” – bunks maybe? Harry took his best guess at the word. He nodded obediently, more relieved than he was willing to admit that he wouldn’t be alone.</p><p>…</p><p>CC-3397 took the warning with due seriousness and Harry found himself oddly relieved at seeing the patrols of clones bristling at every corner. Krell was still locked up in his room although he’d mentioned something about an upcoming eclipse that afternoon. Harry hadn’t realised that he was interested in astronomy – when he’d mentioned it previously, it had been in the same breath as “<em>worthless superstition”</em> and <em>“quackery</em>”.</p><p>He was in the mess room, one of the few present mid-morning, when Krell burst in. There was – something in the bond, some deep turmoil that expressed itself in wild eyes. “<em>Padawan,” </em>he hissed and Harry looked up, startled.</p><p>“<em>Master Krell?” </em>he asked. Cricket was tense behind him and he almost thought the clone would reach for a weapon.</p><p>“<em>Padawan, you must go,” </em>Krell snapped. Harry stood up slowly, his hand going to his belt where his wand was hidden.</p><p>“<em>Master Krell, are you well?” </em>he asked. When he met eyes with the Besalisk he froze. Krell’s irises were – cycling, was the best word he could find. They went from his natural yellow to a deep unearthly yellow, before flickering into red. He was breathing hard, like he was trying to fight something back.</p><p>“<em>I am fine,” </em>he gritted out, as if struggling for every word. “<em>You must- you must leave. Now. Take clones with you.”</em></p><p>Cricket’s hand snuck onto his shoulder. Harry thought he was saying something through his comms.</p><p>“<em>Go where?” </em>Harry asked uncertainly.</p><p>“<em>Away,</em>” Krell panted. “<em>Away, now. A- a training trip. You must not contact me. You must go as far away as you can.” </em>He shook his head wildly before snapping into Basic.</p><p>“Clone, the Commander must go on his-” a few more words here, Cricket saluting obediently. “You are not to return until Master Koon is here. You are not to respond to comms <em>unless </em>they are from him. You are to-” His face twisted. “You are to go, <em>now</em>,” he snarled. “I will <em>not</em> repeat myself.” Items on the mess tables were rattling and Harry skittered backwards.</p><p>“<em>Master Krell</em>,” he tried and for the first time Krell shouted at him.</p><p>
  <em>“YOU WILL OBEY ME, PADAWAN!”</em>
</p><p>CC-3397 was there suddenly, his hands wide as he said something in a quiet, reasonable tone to Krell. He gestured behind his back and Cricket grabbed Harry by the shoulders. “Not the time to argue,” he said quickly. “Let’s go.”</p><p>“But,” Harry protested under his breath as he was dragged out of the mess. “General – he. What about brothers?”</p><p>“<em>We’ll </em>worry about that,” Cricket said. “C’mon, c’mon, let’s go.” He broke into a run and Harry ran after him.</p><p>“Blast,” he tried. “And – and 4111, what-”</p><p>“Captain’s got a squad meeting us,” Cricket said. “Don’t – kid, we’ve got to <em>go</em>.”</p><p>There was a small group of five waiting for them and Cricket was grabbing one of the kits but not stopping to strap it in. Harry recognised two of them, but not by name. They were all jogging out now and for the first time he was being pushed into the jungle that Krell had banned him from.</p><p>His mind was spinning too much to process the commands being snapped. It was all he could do to keep up, hands pulling him whenever he tripped. It felt – like Christophsis had, but rather than an eerie silence there was <em>noise</em> slamming into him, humidity that felt like an actual wall outside of the base. They could barely see the sun from where they were filing through the trees and Harry tried to focus on that rather than the low, urgent voice of Cricket filling in the rest of the team on their orders.</p><p>The adrenalin was pulsing in him, a low throb rather than anything urgent. He paused to rip the bottom of his stupid robes off before they could trip him any further and found himself hoisted onto a back against his protests. They were reassuring, voices tripping over each other but his head was spinning and he could only catch every other word – “Not far,” and “bit more,” and “gonna be fine, Commander.”</p><p>The gas planet, Eskilon, was creeping slowly in front of the sun. The shadows were getting longer and despite the heat Harry found himself shivering. <em>“Eclipse is coming,</em>” he hissed to Cricket and wasn’t sure why he pointed it out. Krell had- there’d been something there.</p><p>It was getting darker now, and darker. One of the clones cursed suddenly. “Comms are down – not hearing any of the chatter from base.”</p><p>The lieutenant leading them paused to tap at the side of his helmet. “Yeah,” he agreed after a long moment. He sounded uneasy. “Keep on moving boys.”</p><p>Harry thought there was – there was something. He felt abruptly dizzy, his head dropping onto the shoulder of the clone carrying him.</p><p>“Commander?” he heard distantly, but he couldn’t respond.</p><p>It felt like – like something was clawing out of his head, releasing long embedded teeth from a death grip. He could feel the pulse of Krell on the other side and then- an explosion of violence that had him crying out. Krell was reaching out now, pulsing an urgent <em>hide</em> that had Harry breathing in and pulling his magic back in, back down to the barest of sparks. It was – it <em>hurt</em>, and it was <em>Krell </em>that was hacking out their bond, pulling out with a desperate intensity.</p><p>“Commander, Commander, what in sithspit – he’s <em>bleeding, what the kriff-”</em></p><p>Harry panted wetly. He wasn’t sure if it was the sun going away now but everything seemed to be stumbling into silence. “<em>Master Krell – the training bond,” </em>he hissed weakly. “<em>It’s– ” </em>it was <em>raw</em> and bloody in his head and silent in a way he’d never felt before, nothing living there but his own thoughts. He opened himself up a bit warily, daring to stretch his senses out a little bit and then-</p><p>-And then he was <em>screaming</em>. The lights were <em>going</em>, the clones were, they were-</p><p>“<em>They’re</em> dying<em>, </em>Cricket, <em>he’s killing </em>them <em>all,” </em>Harry hissed desperately, stumbling between Basic and Parseltongue. He was on the ground now, he didn’t know when that had happened. There was – another flicker, a light quenching, and Harry cried out. His scar was bleeding freely now. “It’s – <em>Blast, Blast, he’s </em>gone.”</p><p>And there was Merry, and- and CT-4111 who’d never got around to picking a name and-</p><p>The sun blinked out overhead.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please refer to tags for general warnings.</p><p>On that note... don't expect anything cheerful here. :/</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Seefer knew something was wrong as soon as the comms cut out. He knew that the patrol had been too kriffing easy. Their sergeant, Lucian (so named for the star of a particularly atrocious holodrama he enjoyed when given the opportunity) was at least of the same opinion and the patrol had been abruptly turned around with the intention of heading back to base.</p><p>There was only so fast they could move in treacherous jungle terrain though, no matter what their armour was equipped with. Seefer found himself twitching with impatience when Scramble got himself stuck in surprise swamp-water, swearing out loud when ’49 managed to draw down an ambush of particularly vicious rabbit-like creatures.</p><p>“We should be moving faster,” he snarled, and Ricochet bumped his shoulder.</p><p>“No point in moving fast if we all die before we get there,” he pointed out and his batch-mate, Sketch, nodded silently.</p><p>Seefer made a gesture of concession but couldn’t stop himself from watching the squad like a clawbird, ready to strike at one more pointless waste of time. ’49 and Scramble were about as shiny as they could get and it took nearly all the time of the other six to keep them from diving headfirst into whatever danger they could. ’56 at least seemed equally impatient, tapping Scramble sharply on his bucket when he nearly tripped over a venom-spitting karak plant.</p><p>The eclipse coming down at least unnerved the animals as much as it did any of his brothers. The chirruping and rumbling faded away and Seefer could feel tension clench at the back of his neck. He checked his comms again and got the same faded crackle. This was a complete pile of <em>osik</em>. How was he supposed to keep an eye on Harry when the comms always went down?</p><p>Sketch was watching him with implacable eyes, as if he knew what he was thinking. “Trackers,” he offered after a moment, and Seefer considered this. He bumped Sketch’s armour in approval and the man nodded once, turning to track Ricochet’s progress across the make-shift bridge they’d pulled together.</p><p>“Not sure the General would approve of you implanting a tracker into our Commander,” Ricochet grunted as he caught up. Seefer gave a broad shrug to imply just how much he cared about Krell’s approval. It’d just be a general tracker – maybe a basic health one too. There had to be a way to get that into the cargo loads. He’d ask Cricket when they got back.</p><p>“More moving, less chatting,” Lucian called from where he’d moved ahead. There was a loud <em>splash</em> as ’49 tripped over his own feet and ’62 made a loud, mocking comment as he pulled him out.</p><p>“Sorry, sorry,” ’49 said, his hand flying to the back of his head. “Didn’t mean to, sarge.”</p><p>Scramble started to say something only for ’56 to raise a finger. “Don’t think you have room to talk, shiny,” he said flatly and Seefer could see his shoulders droop under his armour.</p><p>“I just,” he said a bit hopefully.</p><p>“No.”</p><p>Lucian kept them going when the eclipse had passed and through the night which left the moons and gas planet of Eskilon bright in the sky. They stopped briefly for food and kaf-stims and Seefer knew it was risky, going into a potentially hostile situation on no sleep and limited food but- he just <em>didn’t care</em>.</p><p>The base came into sight mid-way through the next morning. The comms channels continued to crackle uselessly whenever any of them tried to tune in and camaraderie had faded to sharp, snapped commands.</p><p>“No security,” Lucian murmured softly as they approached. “Where the kriff are the lookouts?”</p><p>The whole base was eerily empty and Seefer swallowed hard, his hand tight on his blaster. He was glad to see he wasn’t the only one who had a weapon drawn.</p><p>“Let’s go nice and slow,” Lucian said. “Spread out boys.”</p><p>’49 and Scramble were firmly placed on opposite ends – ’49 slotted in between Seefer and Sketch, Scramble to the right of ’56. Lucian kept himself in the middle and switched to battle signs over words now. They moved forward, keeping low. Seefer wondered morbidly if he was about to be shot by his own battalion. It was a real possibility if someone twitchy was on watch. He couldn’t disagree with Lucian’s approach though – there was something <em>off</em> here.</p><p>They reached the base’s entrance without challenge and that worried Seefer more than anything else. They <em>knew</em> to set watch, no brother would let someone approach a base like this. There wasn’t even someone posted at the entrance and when Lucian scanned his ID, there wasn’t anyone inside either. The metal corridors were blankly empty.</p><p>“What the kriff is going on?” Scramble breathed. He sounded terrified. Lucian waved him silent and they moved on through the corridors.</p><p>It didn’t – there wasn’t even signs of a <em>fight</em>, Seefer thought. Somehow it would have been more reassuring to smell the burn of plasma in the air, see scorch marks splattered across the walls. It was just – empty.</p><p>They checked the barracks rooms – no one. Signs of habitation lay there untouched. In one of the rooms, someone had a half-built droid scattered around; in another, there were contraband holos shoved hastily under the bed. Seefer barely kept from rolling his eyes. That was the first damn place officers would search.</p><p>The infirmary was the first sign of – well, not life. The various heartbeat monitors had flatlined. Some looked like they’d died in an instance, the only sign that they weren’t sleeping the eyes staring open at the ceiling, wide in terror. One, Borry, was lying half tumbled out of bed – it looked like he’d tried to lunge for someone. CT-3998 had made it furthest and his face was frozen somewhere between fear and rage as his corpse lay discarded on the floor. He’d been the one who’d greeted them in camp, Seefer remembered with a pang. His hand spasmed a bit around his blaster. Poms was – he was-</p><p>Seefer swallowed and turned away. <em>Harry</em>, he thought in agony, but at least – at least he couldn’t see his kid here. This was normally the place to find him, so the fact that it wasn’t his- his body lying there was a good sign, wasn’t it?</p><p><em>Stay alert</em>, Lucian signed and Seefer couldn’t help the jolt of indignation that ran through him. What the <em>kriff</em> else was he going to be doing, when his brothers lay dead? ’49’s hands were trembling on his blaster. Was this the first proper fight the shiny had seen? He had the presence of mind to cock his head at Sketch, who nodded back sharply.</p><p>Lucian was hesitant when they hit the General’s quarters. Seefer overrode Harry’s lock first, checking in the room briefly. Nothing there – the room was stark in its lack of personality, the only thing really present a well-made bed and a set of folded extra robes. He shook his head at Lucian and Lucian nodded in acknowledgement before tapping at the General’s lockpad. It denied entrance – once, then twice, before Lucian shook his head. <em>Later</em>, he signed and gestured them all onwards.</p><p>The mess was empty too and Seefer could see Lucian pull back to think. “The courtyard,” he suggested and was surprised at the hoarseness in his own voice. They’d have to move through it to get to the comms centre and the command room. Lucian nodded curtly.</p><p>Their footsteps seemed – abnormally loud. Seefer could hear the blood pounding in his ears and his own breath inside his helmet. There was nothing else to distract him. Scramble and ’49 were twitching around every corner now and Seefer didn’t particularly want them behind him with a gun. ’62 apparently felt the same by the way his head was swivelling to keep them in his line of sight.</p><p>It was hard to smell anything through the filtered air his bucket processed. There was the faintest of breezes though – the courtyard doors had been blasted open, and the distinctive smell of blood was strong even a few corridors away. <em>Diamond formation</em>, Lucian signed and Seefer moved to take the right. Ricochet was just in front of him now.</p><p>There was one corner ahead of them. The scent of blood was stronger now – unmistakeable. Lucian had them still as they approached. <em>Round and ready</em>, he signed. And then <em>3, 2, 1.</em></p><p>Seefer slid out in perfect formation, letting his HUD scan for life forms. His finger was on the trigger but- there was nothing. The infrared wasn’t recognising anything. It took him another heartbeat to process what was there to be recognised.</p><p>There were – bodies, he categorised them as, refusing to see them as his brothers. Piles of them, scattered up against the wall. Nothing- nothing alive. ’56 was making a keening sound, high-pitched, not pausing for breath.</p><p>No one was speaking.</p><p>Seefer’s eyes skittered from one pile to another, not really processing. How many-? He couldn’t spot a little black-haired form there, he found himself thinking. Would he even notice in the piles?</p><p>Lucian was moving forwards now. His gun had dropped, the barrel pointing at the floor. Seefer had to nudge Ricochet to move with him, fine tremors wracking through his brother’s body.</p><p>“That’s Blast,” Ricochet whispered in a barely audible voice. Seefer looked where Ricochet was gazing and wished he hadn’t. That wasn’t how he wanted to remember the kid. He nudged Ricochet forward again.</p><p>’62 was mumbling something to himself. Seefer refused to try and understand what he was saying. They stepped out into the courtyard.</p><p>Seefer had to blink several times to process what was in the centre. There was a – space, a gap of a few metres without any armoured bodies thrown down. In the middle was Pong Krell. He looked-</p><p>’49 was pulling off his helmet to retch now. Seefer closed his eyes briefly.</p><p>Pong Krell looked like something had clawed its way out of his chest. His ribcage was- Seefer breathed in. His face was distorted in agony, his hands outstretched as if to try and strangle someone. Seefer wished that he’d managed it. There was a ringing in his ears and he couldn’t spare the moment to hate the General the way he normally did.</p><p><em>No Harry</em>, he realised. His thoughts felt like they were moving through <em>uj </em>syrup. No little form scattered among all the bodies. He could- he could be under them, but from the way Krell had been <em>displayed</em> it seemed unlikely.</p><p>“His lightsabre is gone,” Lucian observed in a voice that wasn’t so much battle-shocked as <em>broken</em>.</p><p><em>And everyone’s dead</em>, Seefer heard himself scream inside his head. His voice wasn’t working though.</p><p>“Comms,” Sketch said roughly. “We need-”</p><p>Lucian was nodding sharply now. There was no need to buzz his ID on the security door – something had blasted neatly through the walls, the doors not so much broken as <em>crumpled</em> like a fist had closed around them. There were – brothers here as well. It looked like some of them had made a run for the comms room, tried to send out some kind of alert. They hadn’t got very far. The comms room itself was a smoking wreck – like someone had just run a lightsabre through anything that looked critical.</p><p>“’49, ’56,” Lucian ordered hoarsely. “See- see if you can repair anything here.”</p><p>’49 flinched, a full body thing. “Now, sarge?” he asked. The underlying<em>, are you leaving us here</em>? went unspoken.</p><p>“Secure the base, secure the communication lines,” Lucian said. He sounded like he was reciting the manual.</p><p>“How the kriff are we supposed to <em>secure</em> <em>the kriffing base</em>?” ’62 demanded, a frantic note in his voice. “You – <em>you saw</em>-”</p><p>Sketch grabbed his shoulder. “<em>Steady</em>,” he said and none of them could stop the incredulous looks directed his way, not even Lucian.</p><p>“We do what we can,” Lucian said. He was trembling the same way ’49 was but Seefer had to reluctantly admire the way he was trying to forge forwards. “Base – can’t be made secure, but we need to get the communications up. Reinforcements-”</p><p>“General Koon was due to restock,” Seefer rasped out. “Few days’ time. Might accelerate.”</p><p>Lucian nodded jerkily, processing the information. “Need to check the command room – the log,” he said. “Might be other patrols we can recall.”</p><p>“Didn’t see the Commander,” Ricochet said hesitantly. “He might have-” No one dared speak the hope.</p><p>’56 was on his knees already, pulling out the wires behind the main centre. “Bypassed the energy core,” he was muttering. “’49, get over here, look at the ‘board.”</p><p>Lucian tapped his thigh bracer in thought – more frantic than thoughtful, an unnerving sound. “Scramble, Ricochet, you’re on guard,” he ordered. “Seefer, Sketch, ’62 – with me.”</p><p>Scramble made a little whimpering sound but moved to the door, Ricochet by his side. “Sarge,” he gritted out obediently. <em>First real combat</em>, Seefer thought with dull sympathy. He could only really focus on – <em>is Harry going to be in the next room? </em>He’d thought the threat would come from <em>Krell</em>, not – not whatever this was.</p><p>The command room was empty too. They’d – they’d gone through the entire kriffing base, Seefer realised dimly. There was no one here. ’62 let out a noise that was somewhere between a sob of relief and a swear word.</p><p>Lucian was over by the log book, eyes flicking through the words. “One patrol went out day before yesterday,” he said. “Squad of eight.”</p><p><em>How nice</em>, Seefer thought viciously. <em>That makes sixteen of us out of 800 still alive. </em>He couldn’t say anything.</p><p>Lucian let out a little shaky breath. “Commander – Commander sent out on training mission this morning,” he said. “Team of five accompanying. Ordered not to return until General Plo Koon present. Kriff. <em>Kriff.”</em> The set of his head and shoulders was utterly relieved and Seefer realised that he was shaking in relief too. Sketch nudged his shoulder.</p><p>“Our <em>Jed’ika’s </em>still alive,” Lucian said.</p><p>“We should,” Seefer said, and then had to clear his throat. “We should go after him. Whatever did – <em>this</em> might be- might be out there.”</p><p>Lucian put his gloves over his eyeslots while he thought. “No,” he said after a moment. “No, we don’t know where they’ve gone. Until the communication channels are up we might as well be searching for a Rodian at the podraces.” He sounded more confident now. “We need to get General Koon down here so we can brief them – we’ve got a better chance if we’ve got all of the 104<sup>th</sup> with us.”</p><p>“<em>Something might be after them,” </em>Seefer snarled. He couldn’t – he couldn’t <em>wait here</em>.</p><p>“Did you see a kriffing trail out there, trooper?” Lucian shouted at him, dropping his hands. “Because I didn’t! You think I don’t want to be out there, <em>finding whatever did this?”</em> He was panting. “This was <em>my </em>battalion<em>, my batchmates!”</em></p><p><em>“Sarge</em>,” Seefer pleaded and Lucian raised a hand.</p><p>“No,” he said. “No, we’re going to get those kriffing comms working trooper, and then we’re going to find who did this if we have to kriffing <em>strafe the whole moon</em>.”</p><p>Seefer was shaking, he realised. He bit at his lip and then ducked his head in defeat. That was his kid out there. “Sir,” he said grimly. “Permission to assist the- the comms team?”</p><p>“We’re all going to kriffing assist the comms team,” Lucian said dully. “Let’s hope the kriffing Force guides us to a solution soon.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I've decided to keep the warnings as they are on the summary - thank you to those who offered an opinion. This means that there may, at points, be generally triggering things that happen. They will typically be dealt with at the same level of detail as the previous chapter.</p><p>Thank you to everyone who reviewed!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The eclipse had passed by but the darkness hadn’t.</p><p>Harry could feel it pressing down, his scar throbbing with every heartbeat. He hunched his presence down inside of him and tried not to touch the- the absence in his mind. It felt like an unbandaged wound, not clotting just- just there. It hurt whenever he allowed himself to think about it. He tried not to. He hadn’t thought that Krell had wound himself so deeply into him but he was gone and- and so was a presence, a white noise that he hadn’t even been <em>aware of</em>-</p><p>“That’s it, Commander,” Cricket said. “Got to keep moving.”</p><p>The squad had been silent ever since the- ever since he’d told them- about the lights, flickering out. He’d felt <em>so many </em>of them flickering out. With his presence all curled up inside of him, he couldn’t reach out to see if Seefer was- or Ricochet, or the others- He closed his eyes painfully. He <em>hadn’t even known them that long. </em>A few months, that was all. They just- everyone just <em>kept on dying</em>.</p><p>It hurt. Magic had never hurt like this. He – almost resented how it had changed, how everything had just grown <em>bigger</em> around him, going from his school to a whole damn <em>galaxy </em>and why did everyone <em>just die?</em></p><p>He wanted Ron. He wanted Hermione. He wanted the Professors – hell, at this point he’d even settle for<em> Snape.</em></p><p>“Krell’s dead,” he informed Cricket in a daze. He wasn’t sure if he’d mentioned it before. Someone made a soothing sound.</p><p>It felt like everything was spinning out of control and he was just- <em>raw</em>. “Poison,” he slurred, and one of the troopers pulled back before a karak plant could lure him. He ran his tongue over his teeth slowly and tried to focus.</p><p>Someone shoved a pack of dried fruit into his hands and he blinked down at it. He blinked again and he was halfway through it.</p><p>“The Commander likes pallie,” Cricket was offering over his head. Did he? He wasn’t sure.</p><p>“Harry,” he tried to remind them, but no one seemed to be listening.</p><p>“I miss my broom,” he slurred out as they crossed a slow-flowing river. He wasn’t sure if he was talking Parseltongue or English or Basic at this point. “Could just- fly over all this. I don’t like jungles.”</p><p>“Just got to stay with us, Commander,” someone said. It wasn’t Cricket. It wasn’t Seefer either – where was Seefer? Harry made a noise of protest.</p><p>“Told you Krell was dead?” he checked. He might have been hissing. Languages were <em>hard</em>.</p><p>“We’ve got you Commander,” another voice said and Harry scowled.</p><p>“Don’t know who you are,” he complained. “Seefer – I can’t feel him, where is he?”</p><p>“C’mon Commander,” one of the voices said. It was still not Cricket. “Can you keep walking for me?”</p><p>“There’s something – there’s something out there,” Harry said. “Can’t you feel it?” It was – death, rotting, pressing in on them. The animals were <em>spying </em>on them, not willingly, but – Why didn’t they understand him? He tried to repeat it but one of the troopers just ran a hand down his back.</p><p>His senses returned slowly.</p><p>“Comms are still down,” someone – Teeks? was saying. Harry swayed a bit. “The General said to wait for General Koon.”</p><p>“<em>Left!” </em>Harry shouted, something blaring at him. Danger, <em>danger</em>. There was the sound of blaster fire, then a long-toothed, snarling feline collapsing to the ground.</p><p>“<em>Kriff </em>me,” someone breathed. “I thought these didn’t attack groups.”</p><p>“They don’t,” Harry tried to inform them. The darkness was pushing them, some force out there that was driving the jungle from wildness into <em>hostility</em>. “It’s because of him,” he explained earnestly. “He’s hunting us.” No one seemed to understand. He wanted to scream.</p><p>Harry levitated Teeks before he could step into a rantic burrow, drifting him over the top. There was a snarling sound as the rat creature tried to leap up to grab him. The blaster shots sounded <em>very loud</em>.</p><p>“Thanks Commander,” Teeks said, sounding remarkably unbothered. Harry waved a little at him. That was good. <em>No one else was going to die</em>.</p><p>He thought – what Pong Krell had said about the Force seemed to make more sense in this state. The Force wasn’t a quiet thing, like magic. There was life to it, a will that could be coaxed and crooned to and directed if needed but- that whale song, he remembered dully, the heartbeat that pulsed across the galaxy. He thought he could- see, could untangle the way that magic <em>might </em>work, but it felt like – the Force didn’t like being used that way. Some things were fine, little things, but- he frowned.</p><p>“Stinger, right,” he warned almost absentmindedly and there was another round of blaster fire.</p><p>He was drinking water now. He hadn’t noticed he was thirsty. They were – yes, they were sitting, he realised. He ran his hands over his eyes and when he blinked again there were colours and shapes again, not just the <em>presence</em> of things inside his head. The five troopers were still there, still in one piece although they all looked exhausted.</p><p>“It’s like every damn thing out here has suddenly decided it wants to <em>kill us</em>,” one the troopers was saying with exhaustion. Harry squinted at him. He couldn’t remember his name – had he been told? “This place is going to be in my nightmares, lieutenant.” He sounded like he was trying to joke, but couldn’t quite make it.</p><p>“Think it’s going to be in all our nightmares ’14,” the lieutenant said wryly. He was trying his comms again, his helmet off and his hair plastered to his head with sweat. He saw Harry watching him and smiled a little.</p><p>“You back with us, Commander?” he asked and Harry thought about that carefully. He wiggled his hand from side to side and the lieutenant snorted. “Well, that’s an improvement at least.”</p><p>A nutrition bar was pushed into his hand and Harry took a careful bite of it. “It – <em>hurt</em>,” he settled on slowly.</p><p>“Can imagine,” the lieutenant said. “Gave us all a scare when you collapsed like that.” Harry nodded.</p><p>“Cricket?” he asked, and Cricket came to hover beside him. He couldn’t find the words in Basic, so he lapsed back to Parseltongue. “<em>I think he’s searching for us.”</em></p><p>Cricket was very still before he translated that for the squad. “You think it was Voldemort?” he asked, pronouncing the name very carefully. Harry shrugged.</p><p><em>“Don’t know,” </em>he said. “<em>It wasn’t clankers though. It was – Dark, whatever it was.” </em>He paused. “<em>If it was Voldemort, he’d probably come after me not you though.”</em> The thought scared him, but so did – so did the thought of more of those lights flickering out.</p><p>The whole squad was very still at that. “I hope that you’re not suggested that we leave you Commander,” the lieutenant said in a very mild voice. Harry blinked at him.</p><p><em>“It’d make sense,” </em>he argued. He couldn’t stop the way his voice sounded very small.</p><p>Cricket laughed. It sounded very forced. “Seefer told me that he’d kill me if you died Commander. Guess we’ve got to keep you alive.”</p><p>Harry frowned up at him. <em>“It’s fine,” </em>he said. “<em>Seefer will understand.”</em></p><p>“It’s <em>not fine</em>,” Cricket snapped at him. “Sithspit, you’re a <em>kid</em>, it’s <em>not fine</em>.”</p><p>“<em>But,” </em>Harry said, and Cricket slapped a hand over his mouth.</p><p>“No,” he said. “No, we’re not separating and none of us are going to die. We’re – we’re going to go back to base and I am going to hack the stocking requests and I am going to order paint that- that <em>you </em>are going to paint on my armour.”</p><p>“<em>Red and gold</em>?” Harry asked. He smiled a little. “<em>Like Gryffindors.</em>”</p><p>“Sure,” Cricket said. “Sure, red and gold like whatever one of them is. It’ll be great. I’ll be red and gold all over and I’ll be the <em>gaudiest</em> vod in town. You’ll see me coming a mile away.” His eyes were wild. “But <em>you’re going to be there with me Commander</em>.”</p><p>Harry mulled this over. It was just a <em>little</em> tweak, surely the Force wouldn’t mind <em>too </em>much. He reached out and put his hand on Cricket’s breastplate and focused, turning it a bright scarlet. Another touch turned his pauldrons a burnished gold. “<em>Like that?” </em>he asked hopefully.</p><p>“I,” Cricket said, and then shrugged. “Why not? Yeah, just like that.”</p><p>Teeks held his helmet out expectantly. “The visor please, Commander,<em>” </em>he said. Harry turned it red and he hummed in satisfaction. Another touch pressed a gold circle onto the side. Teeks slid it back on his head and ruffled Harry’s hair.</p><p>The lieutenant – Sen – had his pauldrons and gloves changed. ’14 went for his belt and kneepads. ’17 echoed Cricket and at the end of it, Harry felt steadier. They felt – happier around him, more stable. He sighed a little and curled up for a nap, Teeks moving Harry’s head to rest it on his thigh.</p><p>They were woken by blaster fire as a flock of ravens descended on them, screaming through the trees. They <em>echoed</em> in the Force, unnatural, but they were dispatched quickly enough. Harry felt like there were eyes on them.</p><p>“Don’t think those were native,” ’14 said a little uneasily. Sen gestured them all up and moving again.</p><p>The sun was high in the sky, the oppressive heat beating down on them when their comms made a sound that wasn’t just crackle. “<em>This is CT-3321, troopers return to base, return to base. All patrols return.”</em></p><p>Sen touched his earpiece for a second and thought. “General said not to come back until General Koon was present,” he said uneasily. They were all silent, waiting.</p><p>“<em>Men down at base, hostile presence recorded. Unknown number of assailants. Full recall ordered.”</em></p><p>Sen let it pass by for another few moments, then cursed. “CT-3321, this is CT-3443. Standing orders are not to return until reinforcements arrive. Are reinforcements present?”</p><p><em>“Sir?” </em>the voice crackled. “<em>Oh, thank kriff, sir, this is Sergeant Lucian. They’re – the General’s dead sir, and so are the captains. Is the Commander with you?”</em></p><p>Sen tapped his finger against his leg. “Are the communication channels secure, Sergeant?”</p><p>“<em>Best as we can tell, sir</em>.”</p><p>Sen sent a look Harry’s way and Harry shrugged.</p><p>“Reinforcements, Sergeant?”</p><p>“<em>The 104<sup>th</sup> will be hitting atmosphere in estimated 22 hours sir,” </em>Lucian reported. “<em>I – we’ve got sixteen men combat-ready here, sir.”</em></p><p>Sen swore virulently. “Sixteen?! What the – what <em>happened?</em>”</p><p>“<em>We don’t know sir. No survivors. All the recordings shorted out. None of the headcam sets recorded anything. We’re trying to recover what we can but we’re not having any luck. Sir, the Commander?”</em></p><p>“The Commander’s with us,” Sen said, clearly working through possibilities in his head. There was a noise on the other side of the comms that could have been relieved swearing, someone saying Harry’s name. Harry perked up – that was Seefer!</p><p>Sen switched his comm off. “I don’t like the thought of returning somewhere where an enemy’s already shown he can win,” he said grimly.</p><p>“Only two landing pads on the moon,” Teeks pointed out. “We need to be where the 104<sup>th</sup> will be touching down.”</p><p>Sen nodded unhappily and took another few moments to sort through his thoughts. He switched his comm back on. “Abandon base. Head to the emergency ‘pad and make sure the 104<sup>th </sup>know where to come in,” he ordered. “We’ve got an ETA of 1400 tomorrow – you should beat us there.”</p><p>“<em>Yessir</em>,” Lucian said crisply. “<em>We’ll be there, sir.”</em></p><p>“Seefer?” Harry called hopefully, and there was a noise on the other end of the line before Seefer was there, his voice coming through clearly.</p><p>“I’m here, kid,” he said roughly and Harry took a sharp breath.</p><p>“Okay,” he said. “Okay. Soon?”</p><p>“Yeah, soon,” Seefer said. He sounded reassuring and Harry clung to that for a long moment before he let Sen switch his comm off.</p><p>It was ’14 who finally said it, voice numb. “Sixteen left?”</p><p>Sen took a long breath. “22 with us,” he said, his voice forced bright. “Best damn men in the battalion.”</p><p>Cricket made a little noise and Sen clapped him on the shoulder. “C’mon boys,” he said firmly. “Let’s get moving.”</p><p>…</p><p>Harry couldn’t stop himself from very visibly drooping by the time they’d made it to the next morning. He felt guilty for it – the troopers were all keeping to a gruelling pace despite the fact that they’d had to carry him for half the night.  He’d managed to catch snatches of sleep here and there, jolting out every so often to warn of an upcoming danger.</p><p>He’d never met anyone who could just – keep going the way the troopers could. He thought even Hagrid would have struggled to keep to this pace with someone on his back but the only sign of difficulty they showed was the sighs of relief when Sen paced them out for fifteen minutes every couple of hours, making sure everyone ate and drank something.</p><p>It felt oddly appropriate that it went wrong when the landing pad was only a few miles away. Everything in this new place seemed to work that way – dangling hope and then snatching it away again.</p><p>The Force – <em>contracted</em>, for want of a better word, twisted around them. Harry pushed himself off Teeks’ back, reaching for his wand. “Coming!” he shouted and there was swearing, the troopers swinging around to try and find a target.</p><p>Sen was barking something into his comm before the lightning <em>crack</em> split the air. There was a human figure, one second not there and the next-</p><p>Cricket fired and the blaster bolt bounced off a silvery shield that flared into place. All the troopers were firing now, Teeks trying to push Harry into a run. The figure – a man – held a glowing red lightsabre and he gestured loosely with it like a baton. Cricket and Sen went flying into trees. They didn’t get back up.</p><p>Harry tried to aim a spell but it was waved aside with contemptuous ease. The Force felt like it was <em>screaming</em> around him. A jet of green light dropped ’14. Red light contorted Teeks and he collapsed, spasming. Another gesture and ’17 crumpled.</p><p>Every spell that Harry tried, every use of the Force was just brushed aside. He felt useless. The man took a step forward, the first real movement he’d made since he’d appeared. This was no distorted face on the back of Quirrell’s head. He was tall and elegant, handsome even, with hair the same shade as Harry’s own. He was dressed in richly decorated robes and his eyes gleamed with an uncanny red glow.</p><p>Harry was rooted to the spot, terror choking him. The man looked at him.</p><p>“Hello Harry,” Voldemort said, and <em>smiled</em>.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>When I started writing, I told myself this one wasn't going to be a cliffhanger. My bad.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Commander Wolffe,” Plo Koon said. There was the slightest of breaks in his serenity. “I think we may need a shuttle deployed ahead of the full battalion.”</p><p>“Sir?” Wolffe asked, even as he flagged down a comm to change the orders. “Is that sensible with unknown hostiles?”</p><p>“Perhaps not sensible,” Plo Koon allowed with a faint frown. “But necessary, I believe.”</p><p>“We can scramble two squadrons in one of the fast shuttles and have the full battalion down thirty to forty-five minutes after,” Wolffe said. “Does that work, General?”</p><p>“…Yes,” Plo Koon said after some thought. “I will be on the advance shuttle.”</p><p>“Sir!” Wolffe protested and Plo Koon sent him a gentle smile. He thought of that little inquisitive presence, and he thought of the troopers down on the moon, hurting for the loss of their brothers. <em>We’ll be there soon, </em>he thought reassuringly and wished he had the bond in place to send that to them<em>.</em></p><p>…</p><p>“Voldemort,” Harry said, his face white. He couldn’t – he didn’t dare look over to where the troopers had been thrown. Teeks was uncannily still now after the convulsions. No one else was moving. There was nothing but the faint crackle of Sen’s open comms in the background.</p><p>“Yes,” Voldemort hissed and the English sounded almost unfamiliar to Harry’s ears now. “What do you think of my new body?” He gestured elaborately with the lightsabre, and Harry swallowed.</p><p>“How?” he asked. “You didn’t follow me.”</p><p>It wasn’t fair, Harry thought numbly, that Voldemort’s smile could be so terrifying even <em>with </em>lips.</p><p>“I didn’t have to follow you,” Voldemort said lightly. “You brought me with you. Tucked away in the back of your head, a good little container for a shard of my soul.” He gestured loosely around him. “Their deaths are because of you, Harry Potter.” His voice had lowered into an intimate gentleness. “You so kindly housed my soul, you <em>so kindly</em> brought the remnants of the Philosopher’s Stone with you. Sufficient life remade it and the elixir brought me a new body. Really, I should thank you for your dedicated service.” One hand dipped into a pocket and spun the remade stone in the air.</p><p>“No,” Harry said. The words somehow rang true in the Force. He shook his head. “You’re lying.” He hated that he could hear pleading in his own voice.</p><p>Voldemort laughed. It was a pleasant sound.</p><p>“You know why your Master Krell died?” he asked. “The bond was a pathway out – that was all I needed. I had thought of keeping him, the first of my new Death Eaters. He could have lived.”</p><p>“You killed him,” Harry snapped. He raised his wand, a spell leaping to his lips – and then choked as it went flying from his hand.</p><p>“Don’t be rude now, Harry,” Voldemort chided. “We’re having such a <em>pleasant </em>conversation.” He shrugged, an elegant movement that reminded Harry a little of some of the older Slytherins. “And really, why would I lie to you?”</p><p>“Because you can!” Harry shouted. “LIAR!”</p><p>“Shh,” Voldemort murmured condescendingly. “The truth is a beautiful and terrible thing, Harry. Sometimes it hurts more than a gentle lie. And it is the truth I speak now.”</p><p>Harry grasped out for the Force but he couldn’t seem to hold onto it. There were tears bubbling up now. Why couldn’t he <em>do anything?</em></p><p>“He only died because he wouldn’t allow <em>you</em> to die,” Voldemort said. “Love is… such a useless emotion. Only a bit more power was needed, a bit more strength to finalise the repair – something your death would have provided quite nicely. He wouldn’t allow it though.” He smiled coldly. “And so instead he died in your place.”</p><p>“YOU KILLED HIM!” Harry shouted. He was crying now. He tried to <em>shove </em>with the Force and Voldemort rocked backwards a little before shaking his head.</p><p>“He died because of <em>you</em>,” he hissed. “And now your clones are dead, your,” he paused over the word as if to savour it, “<em>Master</em> is dead, and for what?” He gestured broadly. “Are you worth it, Harry Potter? Your parents died because of you, too. Your mother in particular – I would have let her live. But no, <em>not Harry, not Harry</em>, she screamed and she wouldn’t move aside.”</p><p>“She loved me,” Harry choked out. Even now, even when Voldemort stalked forward, that meant something to the orphan who had lived in the cupboard under the stairs.</p><p>“And she died for it,” Voldemort hissed. “Some magic she cast, some last breath of spell let her protect you.” He looked furious now, his handsome face twisting into something that matched the darkness in his presence. “Do you think that protection holds you fast <em>now,</em> Harry Potter? My spell rebounded – but I hardly need magic to kill a <em>child</em>. A worthless, broken little child who kills everyone around him.”</p><p>Harry tried to <em>shove</em> him back, but it didn’t work.</p><p>“<em>Power to vanquish the Dark Lord</em>,” Voldemort said, with great weight. “I think <em>not</em>.” Those elegant hands came up now and Harry found himself dragged forward against his will. “I think I will <em>enjoy</em> this.”</p><p>He couldn’t – he couldn’t get away, he was flailing, but Voldemort’s hands were on his neck, <em>choking-</em></p><p>-And they were <em>both </em>screaming, the scent of burning flesh filling the air- He pulled his hands back and Harry gasped for breath – his hands were blistering in front of them and Voldemort reared back, his lightsabre flying into those burning, reddened hands-</p><p>“<em>What magic is this?” </em>Voldemort was howling and Harry could hear the Force clamouring in his ears, <em>yes, this, now-</em></p><p>He reached up and grabbed that handsome face – the skin was boiling, bubbling beneath his hands – he just had to <em>hold on</em>-</p><p>-And then there was blaster fire, even as Harry sank into darkness.</p><p>…</p><p>“<em>Hostile presence, hostile presence,”</em> Sen’s voice blared in their headsets. “<em>20 degrees, one kilometre, move, move!”</em></p><p>They were all moving before the voice had even stopped crackling in their ears, Lucian gesturing them on. Seefer could feel his blood pumping. They were <em>so close</em>. No one else, <em>please no one else.</em></p><p>Lucian was running at the back, hooking his comms into the approaching shuttle. “General Koon, we’re-”</p><p>“<em>Go,” </em>the Jedi general’s voice said into their ears. “<em>We will catch up with you.</em>”</p><p>“<em>Single male, Force user,” </em>Sen was saying. “<em>Blasters aren’t working-”</em> and then there was a terrible crashing sound, a choking, cry of pain and-</p><p><em>So fast</em> Seefer found himself thinking. Just- time enough for a few sentences. Their trainers had drilled it into their heads, how to take shots, how to <em>kill, </em>but-</p><p>There were more noises and then the comms fell silent. No more blaster bolts. Seefer tried to run faster and his brothers were meeting him step for step.</p><p>The voice that rung out was – unexpected. It was male, speaking in the same tongue Harry had used when they first met. It said Harry’s name, and Seefer could feel the blood freeze in his vein.</p><p>“<em>Voldemort</em>,” Harry said, and his voice sounded so small, so scared. He was still alive though.</p><p>“Sith,” he said grimly over the line and he could feel the tension in his brothers ratchet up.</p><p>“<em>ETA 15,” </em>a voice came from the shuttle.</p><p>Just- just <em>keep him talking</em>, Seefer thought desperately, and it almost seemed like Harry heard him because there was his voice again, cracking, asking a question. Seefer couldn’t bring himself to focus on the actual words although snippets seemed to make sense to him – <em>me with you, because of you</em> the man was saying in that languid drawl. Seefer memorised it. He’d find the bastard, he’d remember this and find him wherever he went and he’d make sure that when he killed him it was <em>messy.</em></p><p>Harry was shouting now, his voice broken with grief. <em>C’mon kid</em>, Seefer thought desperately. Not far, not far now.</p><p>The screaming was close enough that he could hear it in person, not over the comms. Seefer vaulted over a tree trunk, his blaster in hand. He couldn’t register the bodies lying on the ground, <em>more of his brothers, he’d kill him, he’d KILL HIM-</em></p><p>The man was reeling back from Harry’s touch, his face half melted into a horrific mess, a red lightsabre in hand. Seefer was firing, his brothers were firing, trusting that they <em>wouldn’t hit Harry</em>- the man took a bolt to the shoulder, a red stone skittering to the ground, barely managing to twist out of the way of the remaining- Harry was falling, limp – the man raised his hand, an energy shield springing up in front of him but Sketch was already behind-</p><p>-And there was the Jedi, Plo Koon, leaping in with his own lightsabre, <em>where had he come from?</em></p><p>-The man let out a <em>howl </em>of rage and there was a <em>crack-</em></p><p>-And he was gone, leaving behind nothing but bodies and blood.</p><p>…</p><p>“He will recover,” the Jedi General said placidly. His rebreather made a tiny ksh-hk sound every few seconds. Seefer stared at him blankly and hugged Harry’s- hugged Harry to him, cradling him in his arms.</p><p>“He’s not waking,” he said blankly. He was still breathing though. That had been the first thing he’d checked for, throwing his gloves to the side, fumbling for his pulse.</p><p>“He is – within himself,” the Jedi said. “He will return in time.”</p><p>Seefer nodded and let his head drop, cradling Harry carefully. “You need to stop scaring me, kid,” he breathed as quietly as he could. One of his brothers made a triumphant sound to the side.</p><p>“We’ve got life signs!” he cried from where he was knelt over Cricket. “General, can we-”</p><p>“Medics are on their way,” General Koon said soothingly.</p><p>And  ’14 was gone and ’17, but Sen was breathing, if comatose, and Teeks was whimpering softly to himself and three of his brothers were still alive when he’d reckoned for none. Their armour was painted in the red of <em>honour </em>and the gold of <em>vengeance</em>, and Seefer didn’t know when that had happened but he couldn’t stop himself from approving.</p><p>Over to the right, Lucian was murmuring quietly to ’49, soothing him down and the 104<sup>th</sup> were pretending not to notice. <em>What a mission for shinies</em>, Seefer thought and managed to keep his face from twisting in pain.</p><p>Seefer looked down at Harry and managed to catch the sob that was threatening him. The little lightning bolt scar had splintered and spread down the right-hand side of his face looking like nothing more than a lightning bolt in truth. It was bleeding, but sluggishly. “My kid,” he breathed, barely more than a touch of air. He didn’t think the General could hear him.</p><p>“<em>Ni kyr’tayl gai sa’ed – Harry</em>,” he whispered. <em>I know your name as my child. </em>He didn’t even know if it was his right to claim the <em>gai bal manda</em> but he found he couldn’t care less as he stroked Harry’s hair back from his face. “And I’ll say it again when you wake up, whatever anyone else has to say about it.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So technically red is "honouring a parent" but hey, let's have some artistic license here.</p><p><i>Gai bal manda</i> is the Mandalorian adoption ritual. This, along with commitment to the <i>Resol'nare</i> (the six tenets of Mandalorian culture), is sufficient to make someone a Mandalorian. Whether the clones have the right to the culture... is a matter of debate. ;) But hell, it's the thought that counts.</p><p>Some people aren't dead! How exciting is that?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Chapter 17</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Hermione looked tired. She was sat at a desk in the library and her eyes were rimmed with red. Her bushy hair was tied back tightly and she muttered a soft curse as she set the book she was reading aside.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Pointless,” she muttered. She met Harry’s eyes as she moved to stack them away.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Oh,” she said and the word conveyed nothing more than how exhausted she was. “Back again, Harry?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Harry didn’t answer for a second, staring at Hermione with his head cocked. “You look older,” he said after a long pause. Hermione smiled bitterly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well, it has been three years since you died,” she told him and Harry went still.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“ I’m not dead!” he protested and then thought. He could remember Voldemort’s hand clenched tightly around his throat and touched it briefly. “...I guess I might be,” he admitted after a second. He felt cold. Would the troopers all be okay? What about Seefer?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Of course you’re dead,” Hermione informed him matter-of-factly. “Voldemort killed you. We never found your body but- but the Headmaster was very sure.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Oh,” Harry said quietly. “Are you sure?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Voldemort would never have let you live,” Hermione said. “I shouldn’t have let you go on without me.” Her eyes were filling with tears. “This is normally where you start telling me it was my fault,” she gasped a little and Harry stared at her.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Why would I do that?” he asked, baffled. “Hermione, you’re one of my best mates. I’d never blame you!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Ron does,” Hermione choked out. “And no one else says it, but I know they’re all thinking it. If I hadn’t been so- reckless, if I’d made certain that we’d got a teacher...” she burst into tears and Harry rushed over to try and give her a hug. His arms passed through her.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Hermione,” he said helplessly.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Oh Harry,” she sobbed wetly. “It’s all gone wrong. When I got my letter I never thought it would be like this.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Harry made a little soothing sound, the best he could do.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“My- my mum’s dead,” Hermione sniffled. “He- there was a Death Eater attack on Oxford Circus. She shouldn’t have even been there. I only found out today.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Harry thought of that elegant man and the fear clung to him, sticking to his throat. “He does that,” he said a little numbly. “That doesn’t make it your fault though.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Dumbledore - Dumbledore killed him, a year ago,” Hermione said. She scrubbed a hand over her face and forced her face into an approximation of placidity. “He came back three months later. I’m not sure he even can die.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s not your fault, Hermione,” Harry said with terrible numbness. He thought of Master Krell and the troopers. “It’s mine.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Don’t be ridiculous!” Hermione flared.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It is!” Harry insisted. He swallowed. “He told me... he told me I was a good little container for a shard of his soul.” The words felt like they’d been seared into his mind. That I’d kindly housed his soul.” He hugged his arms to himself. “He said all the deaths were my fault.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You are not responsible for what that monster does!” Hermione snapped. “You aren’t the one wielding his wand, you have nothing to do with what decisions he makes.” She opened her mouth to continue and then froze. “Harry,” she whispered. “What did you just say?” She looked as though she had stumbled across onto a terrible secret.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That... it was my fault?” Harry whispered back.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“No, no, about souls,” Hermione said impatiently.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That I was a container?” Harry offered. The words stuck in his throat but he forced them out. “A good little container for a shard of his soul.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That’s it!” Hermione cried. She was up and moving, leaving her books abandoned. “I have to tell the headmaster - soul shards, it’s how he’s staying alive!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Hermione!” Harry called after her, but she was already gone in a whirlwind of hair and manic energy. His legs weren’t moving though. It felt like the world was slowly dissolving around him and he couldn’t hold on. “Hermione!” he shouted again desperately. There was no response.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So guess which genius forgot to bring a keyboard with them? Updates are likely to be much slower over the next week because there’s only so fast I can type on mobile.</p><p>Thank you to everyone who left their thoughts on the last chapter!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Chapter 18</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Seefer sat in the med-bay. Harry still hadn’t woken up. Teeks had, but only to to shiver and shake and remain utterly uncomprehending of the questions he was asked. Sen was drugged unconscious while they debated whether it would be better to try the spinal surgery now or to wait for better facilities. Cricket was in the best place with a broken shoulder and a serious concussion, conscious enough to slur a few confused words to the Jedi when he was asked questions.</p><p>“He looks so small,” ‘49 said quietly. His helmet was balanced on his lap. Seefer grunted.</p><p>“Only a year younger than you,” he said after a few minutes.</p><p>“It’s <em>different</em> for nat-borns,” ‘49 protested immediately and Seefer couldn’t disagree. They both watched him breath for a while.</p><p>“You ever going to get around to picking a name?” Seefer asked. He was tired of the quiet beeping.</p><p>‘49 thought about it. “I don’t really want a name that would come from - there,” he admitted. “And that’s all I can think of right now.”</p><p>That was fair. “Don’t think it’s going to be anything any of us forget soon,” he said and ‘49’s eyes went distant.</p><p>“It’s just - it was so <em>easy</em> for him,” he breathed. “I thought he’d be - something different, but he looked <em>human</em> and he just-“ he struggled through his words. “So <em>many</em>,” he finally said. “What’s even the point of us if the Jedi can do that?”</p><p>Seefer shrugged after a moment. “Don’t think the Jedi can do that,” he said. “Krell died just like our brothers, didn’t he?”</p><p>“The Commander did something though, didn’t he?” ‘49 said. “That man - he looked like he was <em>melting</em>.”</p><p>“Nice and identifiable,” Seefer confirmed grimly. “A skin graft won’t be healing that kind of damage any time soon.”</p><p>‘49 sighed. “I’d have felt better if they’d managed to find him,” he said. “It feels like there was an opportunity there that we lost.”</p><p>And hadn’t the 104th been frustrated about <em>that</em>. Seefer had heard Commander Wolffe snapping over the comms even as his Jedi had joined various search parties. Plo Koon had looked irritatingly serene every time he returned, his hands tucked into his robes but a sharp eye could catch the threads of worry as he insisted on gently probing every surviving member of the 304th. Seefer couldn’t even remember what he’d said but it had barely been a sentence or two, the Jedi allowing him to return to his vigil at Harry’s side.</p><p>They’d searched for a week before the Council had got impatient at the delay, calling for their return. Plo Koon was due to report in at Coruscant and apparently that would be supported by improved medical care for his brothers. Seefer cast a wary eye over Teeks. He wasn’t sure if there was much that could be done there. If they’d been on Kamino he would have already been decommissioned by now.</p><p>There was noise at the door and the Jedi glided in, accompanied by that steady hiss of his rebreather and by Commander Wolffe dogging his heels. ‘49 was on his feet saluting and Seefer reluctantly echoed him. Plo Koon gestured them back to where they were and Seefer sank back into his seat. He was determined to ignore the being but it was difficult with the murmur of noise in the background, the General checking the status of each of the men. </p><p>“CT-4387, was it?” the General asked, apparently done with his rounds. His voice boomed strangely through his mask. Seefer moved his jaw briefly.</p><p>“Yes sir,” he said. He kept his eyes fixed on the delicate breaths Harry was taking.</p><p>“Is there a name that you prefer to be addressed by?” the General asked solicitously. Seefer stilled, his tongue touching against his teeth. He thought of Veshk’kri and he thought of Krell, the unbidden sneer on the Besalisk’s face. He thought of his brothers.</p><p>“No sir,” he said flatly and the General nodded. Wolffe’s eyes narrowed slightly and Seefer refused to acknowledge it. ‘49 glanced between them but said nothing.</p><p>“I’m told you know the Padawan best,” General Koon said. His voice sounded almost gentle but that didn’t mean much.</p><p>“Don’t know about best, sir,” Seefer said. Harry inhaled again and exhaled.</p><p>“I cannot find his temple files among Master Krell’s belongings,” Plo Koon persisted.</p><p>“Sir,” Seefer acknowledged. Wolffe took a deep breath but was stilled by a gentle touch on his arm.</p><p>“Would you perhaps know his name?” Koon asked and Seefer breathed. Jedi could tell when you lied, he’d heard.</p><p>“I was told he’s called Harry,” he said honestly and Plo Koon nodded, taking a note.</p><p>“Just Harry?” he enquired and Seefer shrugged loosely.</p><p>“General Krell said he couldn’t speak Basic. Harry is what I was told - or the Commander.” He got a gentle nod.</p><p>“And his Master before Master Krell?”</p><p>“Don’t know sir,” Seefer said blandly. He didn’t elaborate. Plo Koon looked - thoughtful, perhaps, beneath his mask.</p><p>“The temple he came from?”</p><p>Seefer was pretty certain Harry hadn’t come from any temple. “Don’t know sir,” he repeated.</p><p>“Perhaps a speciality?”</p><p>“Spent a lot of time in the med-bay, sir.”</p><p>“Master Krell did say he enjoyed it,” Plo Koon said a little leadingly. Seefer wasn’t too certain about. Harry just didn’t like seeing people <em>hurt</em> as far as he could tell. Whether that paired with an enjoyment of healing...</p><p>“Don’t know sir,” he said.</p><p>“Do you know <em>anything</em> about him?” Wolffe snapped and Seefer met his gaze this time.</p><p>“He’s a good kid,” he offered and felt a twitch of vicious glee at the snarl that graced Wolffe’s face.</p><p>“That’s valuable to know,” Plo Koon offered diplomatically. “It’s always wonderful when a Padawan is regarded well. You called him a ‘kid’ though - do you know his age?”</p><p>Seefer blinked once, slowly. “Looks pretty young to me, sir.”</p><p>“Indeed,” Plo Koon murmured. “We were unable to retrieve his previous medic’s report on his health. Do you have anything you can assist with there?”</p><p>Seefer felt an ache in his jaw when he thought of Poms. He’d been the brother Harry was closest to after Seefer himself. He swallowed a little roughly. “Malnutrition sir,” he said. Harry’s health was worth covering. “We carry food for him when he forgets. Eyesight wasn’t corrected properly. Two previously broken bones. Some minor burns but doesn’t affect his skin sensitivity.”</p><p>The General’s face radiating understanding. “That explains the dried snacks your brothers all have tucked away,” he said with a little amusement. “Does he forget often?”</p><p>Seefer couldn’t help being a little grateful for the present tense. “More than he should, sir,” he said. He looked down at his kid. He still looked too skinny.</p><p>“We had a rota, sir,” ‘49 piped up. “To make sure the Commander was getting meals. Sometimes the General forgot to let him go from meditation so we needed to make sure sure he got something in his quarters. The Commander always appreciated it.”</p><p>“I’m glad to hear it,” General Koon said gently and ‘49 straightened a little under his regard.</p><p>“He’s a good Commander,” ‘49 said a little fiercely. “‘02 told me when clankers got to camp, when the General was pushing the offensive on Christophsis, the Commander was there fighting too. Was throwing droids around like they were <em>nothing</em> and then went and exhausted himself in the med-bay. Stopped a lot of brothers from dying.” He drew in in himself then, perhaps remembering the piles of dead at the base. “Don’t suppose it mattered much in the end,” he mumbled.</p><p>“Every extra day matters to the ones who live it,” the General said, but ‘49 just tucked his head down into his chest. The General turned his attention back to Seefer.</p><p>“Is there anything else you can provide on Harry?”</p><p><em>He’s got reflexes like a cat when he’s catching lizards</em> Seefer thought. <em>He’s got no problem with ignoring authority but he’s smart enough to work around people instead of through them. He misses people - someone called Ron and Hermione, and he has nightmares about Voldemort and a Quirrell. Someday I’m going to kill them both. He doesn’t like people getting hurt for him. He has dimples when he laughs. When he’s curious about something he cocks his head to one side and stares and sometimes you can see his lips moving as he works through it in his head. He’s at least adequate with a blaster but unfamiliar. Wherever he came from, I don’t think it was the Jedi because he didn’t even recognise the word to start off with</em>.</p><p>“Knew the name Voldemort, sir,” he said simply. “Said he was a Sith.”</p><p>That caught the Jedi’s attention. “He’d had an encounter with him before?”</p><p>“General Krell said he’d take care of it,” Seefer said which was no answer at all but distracted Plo Koon for a moment.</p><p>“Master Krell was aware of this?” he said, and he sounded a little lost. “Why would that not be in his reports to the Council?”</p><p>Because Krell was a <em>di’kut </em>too busy focused on how to turn things to his own advantage Seefer didn’t say. “Don’t know sir,” he said a little woodenly.</p><p>Plo Koon sighed a little. “Thank you CT-4387,” he said. “ I’ve appreciated your willingness to answer questions.”</p><p>Wolffe’s face suggested he was perhaps less appreciative.</p><p>“One last point,” Plo Koon said and produced a little, glowing red stone. Seefer swallowed, staring at it. “Are you familiar with this at all?”</p><p>Seefer thought about answering that for a long moment. “General used to have shards of it,” he offered finally.</p><p>“Do you know where it might have come from?” Plo Koon prompted and Seefer finally met his eye goggles. He might have <em>thought</em> that he’d seen something that looked similar in Harry’s pocket once, but...</p><p>“Don’t know, sir,” he said. He wasn’t going to chance this being something that could negatively affect Harry.</p><p>“I see,” Plo Koon said softly. The stone vanished into a pocket and the General inclined his head. “Thank you for your time, trooper,” he said and withdrew.</p><p>Wolffe didn’t go with him. He stood there glowering until the door had slid shut after his Jedi and he was well down the corridor. </p><p>“What the <em>hell</em> is your problem, vod?” he snapped as soon as the Jedi was out of earshot. “The General’s trying to <em>help.</em>”</p><p>Ah. So he was one of <em>those</em>, Seefer thought with a touch of contempt. He made sure it wasn’t present in his bland, “Sir?”</p><p>Wolffe made a noise of frustrated rage. “You know a lot more about your Commander than you’re saying,” he accused and Seefer met his accusation with a faintly curious look.</p><p>“General Krell told us the Commander only spoke the Besalisk language,” he said mildly. “How would I find out anything else about the Commander?” He paused. “Sir.”</p><p>“Don’t you care about our dead brothers?” Wolffe snapped. “Hiding information could get<em> our brothers</em> killed.”</p><p>‘49 took a sharp breath and Seefer <em>snarled</em>. “I’ve told the General everything I can about <em>that man</em>,” he said, barely able to breath through his anger. “You think I would put our brothers at risk?” He barely kept himself from spilling the words on the tip of his tongue.<em> I care more than any kriffing Jedi does</em>.</p><p>“General Koon can <em>help,” </em>Wolffe said, but he looked more sympathetic now that he’d got an actual response out of Seefer.</p><p><em>General Krell got over five hundred men killed in Christophsis because he wouldn’t listen to his captains about how to run a distraction</em>, Seefer wanted to say. He held his tongue. <em>The knight before him didn’t have the first clue how to command men</em>.</p><p>“Yes sir,” Seefer said instead. Wolffe watched him for a long moment before he, too, sighed and left.</p><p>’49 sat there quietly. “General Krell... wasn’t a very good general, was he?” he more whispered than said. Seefer gave a sharp nod. They both looked down at Harry together.</p><p>”He’s <em>our</em> Commander,” ‘49 said fiercely. “Not theirs.” He moved his jaw a bit. “I had to take him to the med-bay once, after he’d been meditating with General Krell.”</p><p>Seefer nodded to show he was listening and ‘49 rapped his knuckles on Seefer’s armour. “I’ll talk to the others,” he said firmly. “The Commander can decide what to say.”</p><p>Seefer spared him a brief nod and ‘49 left. The only noise left was the beeping of the heart-beat monitors. Harry would wake up soon, Seefer decided. He had to.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Chapter 19</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Formatting’s a little broken - I’ll fix that a bit later. :) Harry wakes up and meets another Jedi!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry came back to splitting pain. Rather than just his forehead burning it had spilled its way down his right cheek, an ice-hot burn that went all the way into his jaw. He whimpered a little and there was a rustle over him. Someone’s hand brushed over his hair and then there was the faint pinprick of a needle. The pain faded slowly and he panted out a breath.</p><p> </p><p>“Harry?” a voice murmured and Harry blinked blearily.</p><p> </p><p>“Hermione?” he slurred. “Where’ve you gone?”</p><p> </p><p>His glasses were placed on his nose and the world slowly swam into focus. Dark eyes were watching him and he let out a sob of relief. “Seefer,” he said. “Thought you were dead.” He swallowed. “Thought I was dead.”</p><p> </p><p>“Not understand,” Seefer said haltingly. He tugged Harry into a hug and Harry went gratefully. “Basic or,” he hissed and Harry blinked.</p><p> </p><p><em> Oh </em> he thought. <em> Languages. </em></p><p> </p><p>“Not dead?” he managed in quiet Basic and Seefer’s hug tightened.</p><p> </p><p>“No,” the man said reassuringly. “Not dead.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh,” Harry said. He tried to remember - there was something important-</p><p> </p><p>His head jolted up suddenly sending a wave of dizziness through him. He tried to shake it off. “Cricket,” he said desperately. “And - others! Voldemort, he -”</p><p> </p><p>Seefer made a soothing noise and Harry clung to him. It was the first time he’d felt safe in - what felt like ages.</p><p> </p><p>“Cricket’s alive,” Seefer rumbled. “Sen and Teeks too. Hurt but alive.”</p><p> </p><p>“I can,” Harry tried to say and Seefer snorted.</p><p> </p><p>“They’re stable,” he said. “You’re hurt. You need to take care of <em> yourself. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>“Hurt because of me,” Harry said unhappily. He hadn’t missed that the others hadn’t been mentioned.</p><p> </p><p>“Hurt because of <em> Voldemort </em>,” Seefer snarled and Harry felt warmed by the protectiveness in his voice. No one had ever been like that around him.</p><p> </p><p>“Sir, the patient needs checking on,” a mechanical voice said and Harry felt a spark of panic. That was - that was a <em> droid. </em>Seefer didn’t seem bothered by it though, snapping a few sharp words back, his arms still clutching Harry close - so it couldn’t be a threat?</p><p> </p><p>“Droid?” he questioned softly and Seefer glanced down at him in surprise before realisation flickered across his face.</p><p> </p><p>“Ally,” he said simply. “Healer droid.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry processed this silently before nodding. “What happened with- <em> him </em>?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ran,” Seefer said grimly. “Injured.”</p><p> </p><p>That sent a dark flare of satisfaction through Harry. But still- “Not dead?” he checked and couldn’t help the unhappiness that tugged on his lips at Seefer’s negative.</p><p> </p><p>“General helped chase him off,” Seefer said and Harry frowned. He cringed away from poking at the broken pathway in his head. <em> A channel that Voldemort had used, </em>he thought.</p><p> </p><p>“Krell’s dead,” he said. He’d <em> felt </em>that.</p><p> </p><p>Seefer nodded. “General Koon,” he clarified. “Another Jedi.”</p><p> </p><p><em> I had thought of keeping him, the first of my new Death Eaters </em> Voldemort had said, and Harry didn’t doubt that if it had only been the clones to die then Master Krell would have been standing by Voldemort’s side. The thought sent cold shoots down his spine. <em> Yes, </em> Krell had fought but- Harry looked up at Seefer and turned his head into his warm chest. He was in his blacks, not his armour, and it felt like he was a barrier between Harry and anyone who would harm him. It wasn’t true of course - Harry had felt too many of the troopers die to think anyone capable of stopping everything, but it still sent a feeling of warmth through Harry. Seefer was <em> his </em> and so was Cricket and anyone of the 304th who’d survived - they were all his.</p><p> </p><p>“Jedi <em> like </em> Krell?” Harry said sharply and he could feel Seefer’s chest move in a soft chuckle.</p><p> </p><p>“Fierce little tooka,” he said softly, poking at Harry’s nose. Harry glowered at him until he answered. “Maybe. Don’t know.” Seefer shrugged. “The other brothers like him.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry pursed his lips. He’d be careful then but not <em> hostile, </em> not yet. “Fine,” he grumbled and felt a little secretly delighted when Seefer’s chest shook again. “Basic for him?”</p><p> </p><p>“Your choice,” Seefer said and Harry considered this.</p><p> </p><p><em> “What if I stuck to Parseltongue?” </em>he hissed in test. The words felt odd in his head for a second as if he didn’t quite understand them, before forming up. He’d been speaking it nearly constantly for the past few months - there was no reason for it to feel foreign to him now. Seefer looked at him.</p><p> </p><p>“Your choice,” he repeated firmly. “But he won’t understand.”</p><p> </p><p><em> What a shame, </em>Harry thought viciously. He rubbed his head against Seefer. He couldn’t remember who’d ever hugged him before Seefer. Hermione, maybe, after the troll. It satisfied something bone-deep in him.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> I’m going to heal Cricket and the others,” </em>he said firmly.</p><p> </p><p>“When you’re healed first,” Seefer said implacably and Harry accepted that with a duck of his head. Seefer wouldn’t be here all the time, he thought slyly and he was conveniently already nearby in the infirmary. Seefer looked a little suspicious at the easy acquiescence but let it go.</p><p> </p><p>“The red and gold,” Seefer said after a moment. “You?”</p><p> </p><p>Harry couldn’t stop the smile that jumped across his face at that. “<em> Gryffindor colours,” </em> he said with a little bit of pride. “ <em> My house at school. The house of the brave.” </em></p><p> </p><p>“Gryffindor,” Seefer repeated slowly, his accent slightly off. “You’ll have to do my armour sometime.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry couldn’t breathe for a second. Seefer rapped his chest. “Same clan?” he said and Harry didn’t quite understand the last word but <em> still. </em></p><p> </p><p><em> “Yes,” </em> he hissed fiercely. “ <em> You and any of the 304th that want it. Same house, same loyalty.” </em></p><p> </p><p>“Sir, I really must insist,” the mechanical voice was back and Seefer let his oddly intense look drop off his face to be replaced by a sigh of resignation. The droid that approached didn’t look anything like the clankers, painted a soothing cream colour and with an officious manner about it.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Thank </em> you,” it huffed. “Now young master, is there any pain?”</p><p> </p><p>Harry blinked up at it innocently. He hissed some nonsense.</p><p> </p><p>“I - young <em> master </em>,” the droid protested. “I am afraid I am unable to speak your noble tongue. Perhaps Basic?”</p><p> </p><p>Harry hissed again and watched its dismay with hidden delight. This could be <em> fun. </em></p><p> </p><p>“Perhaps - a one to ten scale?” the droid attempted. “How much does it hurt?”</p><p> </p><p>Harry sighed a little through his nose and Seefer nudged him deliberately. He rolled his eyes and held up one finger. He felt more like he was buzzing slightly with whatever he’d been injected with previously.</p><p> </p><p>“Excellent!” the droid exclaimed. “And can you see clearly?”</p><p> </p><p>Harry tapped his glasses with a frown, and Seefer translated the motion. He felt more amused than exasperated, so Harry guessed he was fine with him pretending not to speak Basic.</p><p> </p><p>“No double vision?” the droid tried and Harry shook his head. “Blurriness? Dizziness?”</p><p> </p><p>A few times Harry had to turn to Seefer to mime out the meaning of what the droid was saying but they managed to get through the barrage of questions with minimal effort. The droid made pleased noises at the end and Harry watched it bustle off, a little bewildered. It was just so <em> different </em>to the clankers.</p><p> </p><p>“That how we’re playing it then?” Seefer asked and Harry shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Never wrong to want to wait and see, is it?” </em>he asked and Seefer smiled.</p><p> </p><p>“Information gathering is important but sometimes you need to make a decision blind,” he cautioned.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> But not today, </em>” Harry checked and Seefer nodded.</p><p> </p><p>They both glanced up as the door slid open and Harry felt a bit of guilt that he hadn’t been paying attention. Krell would- Krell <em> would have </em>been annoyed with him for that. He tried to let his senses stretch out but it hurt enough that he pulled them back with a flinch.</p><p> </p><p>The being that came through was odd - but perhaps no odder than Krell had been with his four arms and serpentine eyes. They were an orange colour with a mask on and coiled tentacles to the side of their head. Their breathing came accompanied by a strange mechanical processing noise. Harry realises with a jolt that he recognised them - from when he’d gone pressing <em> out </em> into the galaxy. He was accompanied by a trooper that Harry didn’t recognise.</p><p> </p><p>Seefer pushed Harry away gently and Harry couldn’t stop the noise of protest that slipped out. Seefer hesitated for a second before glowering at the Jedi and pulling Harry back to the same position. “General,” he acknowledged and Harry could feel the tension thrumming through him.</p><p> </p><p>“CT-4387,” the being said solemnly and Harry bristled. Why couldn’t he use Seefer’s name? “And young Padawan Harry.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> General,” </em>Harry hissed and the trooper beside the Jedi jolted as of he hadn’t expected the inhuman sound to come out of his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>“Ah,” the Jedi more breathed than said. “I am afraid I don’t speak Parseltongue, Padawan. It is not permitted for outsiders.” He sounded kind and Harry squinted at him a little. He didn’t say anything about Seefer’s presence when Krell would have been furious.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> I understand some Basic, I don’t speak it,” </em>he said experimentally. Sometimes people lied about what they understood and it was better to be safe.</p><p> </p><p>“I am Master Plo Koon and this is Commander Wolffe,” the Jedi said. Harry frowned - so he would use the troopers’ names? “Do you understand me?”</p><p> </p><p>Harry tilted his hand from one side to another to indicate a little. Master Koon nodded solemnly. “We wanted to talk to you about the incident on Eskilon-5.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Slower,” </em> Harry said, motioning <em> , </em> and the Jedi repeated himself patiently. Harry thought carefully. Voldemort had killed so many - whatever he could do to get him caught mattered, didn’t it?</p><p> </p><p>“Voldemort,” he said slowly. He chewed on his lip. He didn’t have to give everything about himself away, did he? “Sith.” Even though he’d decided to speak, finding words were hard.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> He used Krell to resurrect himself,” </em>he hissed to try and sort his own thoughts out. Seefer stilled a little.</p><p> </p><p>“Dead,” Harry tried. “Now not.”</p><p> </p><p>“The Sith was thought to be dead?” Plo Koon said and Harry shook his head.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Was </em> dead,” he said. “ <em> He left soul shards behind. I was a container and he used Krell as a pathway out.” </em></p><p> </p><p>Seefer’s hand tightened on his shoulder. Harry looked up at him and though his face didn’t change at all, he knew not to try and say that part to Koon. “Kill troopers,” he said haltingly. “Way out.” He wondered how Koon would take it if he said it was Krell who’d given him that way out. Adults didn’t like to hear that about people they liked and if they were both Jedi, they would have known each other wouldn’t they?</p><p> </p><p>“Was he the Master or the Apprentice?” Koon asked, his face tight around his eye coverings. Harry tried to process that. The word apprentice sounded familiar.</p><p> </p><p>“No master?” he said a little uncertainly. <em> “Voldemort wouldn’t have let anyone command him,” </em> he said. “ <em> Everyone called himself the Dark Lord - there wasn’t anyone else.” </em> He tried to think. “ <em> The last Dark Lord before him was Grindelwald I think, but I don’t know much about him.” </em></p><p> </p><p>There was no warning squeeze from Seefer so Harry tried to find the words. “Before Grindelwald, but Dumbledore defeat him.” That <em> did </em> seem to strike a note with Seefer but he didn’t say anything.</p><p> </p><p>“Dumbledore,” Koon murmured. “Was he your Master before?”</p><p> </p><p>“Top Master,” Harry said. It wasn’t the right word. “Of,” he couldn’t think of the word for school. “Of training. For Jedi.”</p><p> </p><p>“Your temple?” Koon asked and Harry shrugged. <em> Close enough </em> he wanted to say. “I’m not familiar with a Master Dumbledore,” he mused and Harry shrugged again. “Did you have any other teachers?”</p><p> </p><p>“McGonagall,” Harry said. “Snape, Quirrell, Flitwick, Sinistra. Many.”</p><p> </p><p>“A full roster then!” Koon exclaimed, sounding pleased. “Your crechemasters?”</p><p> </p><p>Harry didn’t recognise that word and he was sure his blank stare expressed as much. Plo Koon did something that he thought might have been a smile underneath the mask.</p><p> </p><p>“How did you come to Master Krell?” he asked and Harry - remembered that flash of green light, the mirror shattered beneath him. He swallowed.</p><p> </p><p>“Voldemort,” he said stiffly and didn’t elaborate. The trooper to the side of Koon almost looked sympathetic.</p><p> </p><p>Koon didn’t push further on that. He leant forward a little instead. “There was an-“ and a word that Harry couldn’t understand, “found. A little red stone.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry couldn’t stop the full body flinch. Koon went still and his head tilted. “Padawan?” he asked softly.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> The Philosopher’s Stone,” </em> Harry hissed. “ <em> He remade it by- by killing everyone. It brought him back, it’s evil, Flamel never should have made it.” </em></p><p> </p><p>“Padawan, we can’t understand you,” the Jedi was saying in a soothing voice.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> My fault,” </em> Harry hiccuped into Seefer. “ <em> Should have made sure it was smashed into dust. Don’t know why I didn’t.” </em></p><p> </p><p><em> “ </em>Shhh,” Seefer soothed gently, rocking him slightly. Harry swallowed a few times.</p><p> </p><p>“Death remake,” he said, hollow-eyed. “Is <em> wrong </em>.”</p><p> </p><p>“A Sith artifact then,” Plo Koon said steadily. “We will deal with it.”</p><p> </p><p>Deal with infinite wealth and eternal life? Harry didn’t trust <em> anyone </em>with that, not when he knew what it took to remake it. “Wrong,” he insisted and Plo Koon made a noise of agreement.</p><p> </p><p>“We have tired you enough, Padawan,” he said solemnly, rising to his feet. “We will talk again. I fear though, that with Master Krell’s death, we cannot permit you to remain ignorant of Basic.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry kept his head buried in Seefer.</p><p> </p><p>“Would you object to learning more of Basic?” he asked and Harry turned a little to see him kneeling beside the bed. He shrugged a little, refusing to move.</p><p> </p><p>“Perhaps you could address this, CT-4387?” Master Koon said and Seefer made a motion above him. Harry hoped it was a yes. It would give him an excuse to be around the troopers.</p><p> </p><p>“Very well,” Plo Koon said with a smile in his voice. “We are a few days from Coruscant. We will talk again before we land at the Temple.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry didn’t bother to look up as they left. What did he care about any Temple?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Chapter 20</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>General Koon had kept the remnants of the 304th on light duties on the way back to Coruscant. Seefer might have appreciated it if it hadn’t resulted in his brothers being driven absolutely space-crazy. Sketch was doing pull-ups from the door in the med-bay with ‘49 doing his best to balance various items on his head in improbable looking configurations. Seefer squinted at it - he </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> didn’t see how that was staying up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He raised an eyebrow at Harry, sat cross-legged on the floor, and Harry grinned widely at him. He was breathing slightly hard with focus. Seefer was pretty sure this wasn’t Jedi-approved training.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The healer droid had long since retreated to their office at the influx from the remaining men of the 304th. Nineteen left - and Harry, making a round twenty. Seefer had walked in on Harry breathing very softly as he’d try to sense out what was wrong with Teeks and the careful, heartbroken confusion hadn’t looked great, so maybe it would be nineteen again in time.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Ricochet dismantled his blaster for what had to be the seventh time that day to clean it again. Lucian had acquired a holopad from somewhere - apparently a new series of </span>
  <em>
    <span>the Seventh Planet From the Sun</span>
  </em>
  <span> had come out while they were off being slaughtered by various enemies. The others were all scattered around to various levels of productivity. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Koon had seemed unbothered by the 304th’s relocation though he had been firm that they were to leave the instant they became a hindrance to those healing. Seefer didn’t think that would be much of an issue. Cricket had recovered from his concussion with suspicious speed - Seefer eyed Harry again - and was sat up in bed with his shoulder covered in enough bandages to mummify a man. Sen was still drugged unconscious.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a faint noise and then everything on Sketch’s head came toppling down. “Commander!” ‘49 protested and Harry laughed. The noise sent a variety of soft smiles flicking onto people’s faces.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How’s your work going?” Seefer asked, tucking himself down beside Harry. Harry had a datapad in hand and various Aurebesh characters scattered around, working his way through a textbook written on Basic on - oh, healing, of course. “Little bit ambitious?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry shrugged. “Translator works okay,” he said, and hovered over a word to show how it could be flipped into Parseltongue.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Doesn’t make the content easier,” Seefer pointed out and Harry grimaced a little in agreement.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have to look up a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lot</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he agreed glumly. “This page take me-” he looked up at the chronometer, and pulled a face, “</span>
  <em>
    <span>long</span>
  </em>
  <span> time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This page has taken me a long time,” Ricks corrected from nearby. He was one of the troopers from the second patrol. Harry nodded in acknowledgment and repeated the sentence quietly to himself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You could have started with something a bit easier,” Seefer said gently and Harry glared at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like </span>
  <em>
    <span>the Little Lost Tooka</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” he demanded and there were a number of rapidly stifled snorts. Seefer managed to keep his own smile under control.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There are books part way between that and…” he looked at Harry’s text again, “mid-late level medical education on the human body.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry grumbled something in his own language and Seefer took note of it. He was building up a small vocabulary of his own - he didn’t think he could get his tongue around the sibilant syllables of Parseltongue and there was no harm in having a spare language to speak in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“C’mon kid, what’s this about?” Seefer said and Harry looked at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t know what in a brain,” Harry said. He paused for Ricks’ correction and processed the words. “What is </span>
  <em>
    <span>supposed</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be there,” he said carefully. “All nerve endings in Teeks and,” he flailed a bit and switched to Parseltongue.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I can see that there’s damage in the nerves but it’s like these little electric pulses are coming from something in his brain and I don’t know if it’s supposed to be there. It doesn’t feel fully right but Teeks’ body thinks it’s always been there so I don’t know if it’s actually wrong so,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he raised his book.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re trying to teach yourself brain surgery,” Cricket deadpanned from his bed. Most of the squad had removed their comms from their helmets and wound them around their ears, allowing them to understand when Harry needed to switch to explain. They’d get an absolute earful if an officer saw that but for the moment the 104th were leaving them alone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Harry hissed sullenly, apparently well aware of how ridiculous that sounded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Harry, you’re eleven,” Seefer sighed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Maybe twelve!” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry said immediately.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What - when did that happen?” ‘49 asked, sounding betrayed. “Birthdays are </span>
  <em>
    <span>important </span>
  </em>
  <span>for nat-borns, Commander.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What, we have party?” Harry deadpanned. “And don’t know certain. I think -,” he counted on his fingers. “Maybe two months’ ago?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So - Helona, sometime?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry shrugged again. “Not my-” he hissed the word and waited for a translation. “Not my calendar. Maybe?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Seefer said patiently. “You’re twelve. Healing takes people many years of studying. You can talk to a medic when we get to the temple.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry’s noise could probably be taken as assent if Seefer hadn’t spent the past few months around him. Seefer wished Poms was here.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘49 still seemed stuck on the birthday point. “We could definitely do something,” he said. “I heard that cake was a thing for nat-borns. What did you do before, Commander?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry looked faintly amused. “Nothing,” he said, and Seefer’s thoughts that that might be a Jedi thing were promptly dispelled by the next words, hissed in Parseltongue. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Aunt and uncle didn’t like me much. I got a coat hanger one year.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean, they didn’t like you much?” Ricochet demanded, looking up from his blaster. Seefer would very much like to know too. He had a suspicion from</span>
  <em>
    <span> malnutrition</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Weird stuff happened around me,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry explained casually. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>They wanted normal. I wasn’t.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So the Jedi took you?” Cricket asked sharply. Harry chewed on his lip a little.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Like the Jedi, but different,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he admitted. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>They sent letters and then when they got no response they sent Hagrid. He told me I was magic.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry’s face was full of fondness for this Hagrid. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“There was a school for people like me- they wanted me.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How old were you when they took you?” Seefer asked and Harry’s shrug this time was a bit slower.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Eleven,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he admitted. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>On my birthday.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was absolute silence - then a cacophony. “One </span>
  <em>
    <span>year’s training-“</span>
  </em>
  <span>, “Put you </span>
  <em>
    <span>in a kriffing warzone-“, “Are they insane?!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gentlemen, gentlemen,” the droid cried from their office, coming bustling out. “Is this absolutely necessary-” it froze under various glares and trailed off. A few squeaks made their way out of its audio box before it retreated again, head dropped.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Seefer said. “Not much we can do about the past and you’ve been doing very well.” This was echoed from a few different places.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been putting together a training program,” Lucian said. He’d finally put his holodrama on pause. “Seefer, you’ll check it over. Commander, we’ll keep you busy enough in the future.” The sergeant looked unimpressed at the various looks directed his way. “What? It’s pretty clear the Jedi don’t train for war and I’m hardly going to let our Commander stay that way.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And you’ve missed shouting at trainees,” ‘03 mumbled and no one missed the broad smile on Lucian’s face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>They didn’t put me in a warzone,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry protested quietly. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s just - they wouldn’t listen when we told them something was wrong.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Start from the beginning,” Seefer said. He pulled Harry into a hug - it was becoming a habit now, but he always went so happily, nothing like those little confused looks he’d got back on Christophsis. </span>
  <em>
    <span>My aunt and uncle didn’t like me much</span>
  </em>
  <span> - more fool </span>
  <em>
    <span>them</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought sharply. Ricochet looked like he was contemplating how to get a bit more information on them in particular.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry said. He struggled for a second. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>My planet didn’t have space travel,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>and Seefer tried to process that. One of the protected planets maybe? </span>
  <em>
    <span>“You’ve guessed we don’t speak Basic. We don’t know about - any of this.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Huh,” Cricket said. He looked worryingly speculative, like he was processing old information into a new model.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>We’re - separated,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry continued doggedly. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>People who can use magic - use the Force, and people who can’t. No one really knows about the magic users.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Many Force users?” Sketch asked. He, like the others, had gathered into a semi-circle around Harry.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry shrugged. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Seven hundred in my school?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he guessed. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Some several thousand in my country, which means - maybe a hundred thousand across the planet? I don’t really know, I didn’t ask.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> He looked a bit ashamed at that. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hermione would have known.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>How many Jedi were there in total? Seefer wondered. Not </span>
  <em>
    <span>many.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Another hundred thousand would likely be a big deal - and from a single planet...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>When I was a baby, there was a war. It was about - blood.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry said. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Purity. The magic users didn’t like that sometimes there were - first-born magic users. Not from an established line.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He was struggling now. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I don’t really understand it,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> he offered apologetically. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Voldemort led one side of the war - him and his Death Eaters. They killed a lot.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was bad?” Seefer asked gently. They’d all studied enough civil wars to know exactly how bad it could get. Harry’s nod was sharp.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>My parents fought him and he came after them,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he explained. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>He killed them and then tried to kill me but it didn’t work. No one knows why. It backfired and he died and,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he looked upset here. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>It made me famous.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How old were you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>One?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry said uncertainly. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I was a baby.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So this Voldemort was a scumbag on all levels, Seefer thought grimly. Good to know.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I was left with my aunt and uncle and then when I was eleven, I went to Hogwarts. It was - unbelievable. We got sorted into houses there.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Gryffindor,” Seefer murmured. “Red and gold.” Cricket touched his own red armour to the side of his bed and Seefer didn’t miss the speculative looks the others gave it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Gryffindor for bravery, Slytherin for ambition, Ravenclaw for intelligence, Hufflepuff for loyalty.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Must have been close between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff then,” ‘49 said cheerfully. Harry raised a shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“They were- our families there.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your squad,” Seefer said and thought of his own squad with a bitter pang. The 304th were good, yes, but they weren’t the boys he’d grown up alongside.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“We had lessons and I made a friend - Ron,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry said brightly. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>We fought a troll together and that made us friends with Hermione too.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A </span>
  <em>
    <span>troll?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ricks mouthed but Harry was on a roll now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>The headmaster was hiding something in the school though - we worked out it was the Philosopher’s Stone. It could make people live forever.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry frowned a little. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“There was other stuff, like Hagrid got a dragon that we had to smuggle out and someone cursed my broom when I was flying and nearly killed me, and I had detention in the Forbidden Forest and there was something - something that was killing unicorns and drinking their blood.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seefer tried to process that. Cricket was the one who said what he was thinking. “What kind of school was this?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>We worked out that someone was going to steal the stone. Thought it was Snape because he hated me, but-“ </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry trailed off and shook his head. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>We tried to warn the teachers but they didn’t believe us. Dumbledore was at the ministry, so we had to go after it.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The name Dumbledore struck something with Cricket.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You, Hermione and Ron?” Seefer checked and Harry nodded. Three eleven year olds going after a man who’d slaughtered his way through an entire legion Seefer thought. He needed to have a word with Harry about appropriate mission staffing. Lucian seemed to be on the same thought wave.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>There were obstacles but we got through them,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry said. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Ron has to sacrifice himself on the chess board - he was still alive though,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he added hurriedly at the ripples of shock that went through the troopers. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>At the end there was a fire - only one person could go through. So I did.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course</span>
  </em>
  <span> he did. Maybe the words would need to include some discussion of self-preservation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry was staring at his hands now. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>One of my teachers was on the other side. He’d beaten us there. Quirrell. He was - possessed. Voldemort was - he had a second face on the back of his head that he’d hidden under a turban. They wanted the stone but it was in the Mirror - the Mirror of Erised, it showed your greatest desire,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he said which explained almost nothing. Why was this in a </span>
  <em>
    <span>school</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Used me to get it out,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry continued. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Said I should hand it over. I didn’t. He - there were curses and I tried to run, but - I don’t know, I fell, the mirror exploded and - and when I woke up I was on Christophsis and there were droids killing people and you were hurt and I just-” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he shrugged.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And he’d got them out of the way and he’d </span>
  <em>
    <span>kept it together </span>
  </em>
  <span>when nothing made sense, his brave Harry. Seefer buried his nose in his kid’s hair and kept his arms tight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Voldemort said I carried him through,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry said quietly. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>A shard of his soul. And I gave Master Krell the broken stone, and,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>he swallowed. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>There’s a training bond that Jedi have apparently - this big channel in my head. Voldemort couldn’t get into my head so he got into Krell’s. And then they killed all the troopers to repair the stone but it wasn’t enough - Voldemort wanted to use my life but Krell wouldn’t let him. So Voldemort killed him instead.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The one good thing that </span>
  <em>
    <span>di’kut </span>
  </em>
  <span>did in his life,” Seefer growled. “Harry, Harry.” Ricochet moved up to bracket him, Sketch on the other side. All the brothers were moving round. “You did good kid,” Seefer said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>But they died,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Harry said and Lucian made a noise.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The General was a fully trained Jedi, right?” he asked, and Harry nodded slowly. “And you have one year of training.” Another nod and Seefer managed to fight back his grin. “And the General couldn’t fight this Voldemort,” Lucian continued implacably. Harry’s nod was grudging this time, clearly seeing where this was going. “And so?” Lucian asked, raising an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Voldemort‘s fault, not mine,” Harry said, switching back to Basic. “But-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You were in unfamiliar territory, with unfamiliar allies speaking a language that you didn’t know. You were a trainee,” Lucian said flatly. Harry’s squirmed. “Did you tell anyone what you knew?” Lucian asked and Harry nodded a little sullenly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Told Master Krell about Voldemort,” he said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And as soon as there were translators, you told us what you could,” Cricket said. He met Seefer’s look a little apologetically. “You were already out on patrol.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ll talk later about how to take down a Sith,” Lucian said. “We’ll come up with plans. You are not alone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry nodded, a jerky little thing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jedi though,” he said and Seefer fought back a growl.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ni kyr’tayl gai sa’ed Harry,” he said deliberately. “I want you to be my kid. Do you want me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Harry looked wounded, all big eyes and uncertain. “You want-?” he asked uncertainly. Seefer didn’t break eye contact.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I - yeah, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Harry said. “Jedi say no attachments.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ll figure it out,” Lucian said firmly. “You don’t just get Seefer out of this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There’s the whole legal piece about us,” Cricket said thoughtfully.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Has to be a way around it,” Ricks said. “Guess we’ve got some research to do when we get to the temple.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seefer looked around at them all. They weren’t his batchmates but - they were the 304th. To hell with Voldemort, to hell with the Jedi. Whoever they needed to fight, they </span>
  <em>
    <span>would.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Chapter 21</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry was in the training room. He’d been <em> in </em> the training room ever since Lucian had pulled out a datapad worth of notes he’d apparently been keeping on potential training progams - something that dated right back to Christophsis. There were notes there on health that Harry recognised Poms’ hand in and a whole wealth of scratchings on potential battle tactics, things various troopers had seen him doing in training with Krell, even notes on his preferences of nutritional bars. It seemed like half the legion had contributed to it at some point or another and - that was overwhelming. Seefer had acted like this was entirely normal and taken to correcting it in spare moments.</p><p> </p><p>Right now, Lucian seemed to think what Harry really needed to know was how to slam into a training mat for the fiftieth time running. “Learning how to fall” apparently. This was occasionally interspersed with a throw when Harry needed a break - but very occasionally. The 304th were dotted around, as were a few of the 104th, all of whom seemed to think this was the greatest form of entertainment they’d ever seen. Harry grasped onto the Force and flung himself into a neat roll and there were a couple of loud boos.</p><p> </p><p>“No Force use!” Lucian shouted. “This needs to be <em> muscle memory </em>, not something that can be taken away from you!”</p><p> </p><p>Harry wanted to protest that the Force couldn’t be taken away but Cricket’s contribution to the handbook was a nice long list of the various ways that Force users could be taken down and that Harry therefore needed to be protected from. He still wasn’t sure what an ysalamir was but he was quite certain that he didn’t want to be anywhere near one. He winced a little as he got to his feet but didn’t protest.</p><p> </p><p>“Might I interrupt?” a voice boomed and Harry glanced over to see Master Koon approaching. The 304th fell into silence, all of them snapping into disciplined salutes. One of the 104th waved at their General instead. Master Koon wriggled his fingers back.</p><p> </p><p>“General, sir!” Lucian said sharply. Harry was tempted to slide behind his bulk but stayed silent instead.</p><p> </p><p>“At ease,” Master Koon said. There were crinkles on his face that suggested a smile. The 304th let their salutes fall but none of them took their eyes off the General, instead sliding into various watchful positions around the hall. Wolffe, who was a few feet behind his General, looked unhappy about something and Harry scowled at him a little.</p><p> </p><p>“Padawan, would you indulge me?” Koon said, holding a cylinder out and Harry eyed it. <em> A lightsabre </em>he realised after a few seconds. He flicked his eyes over to where Seefer stood with his arm crossed, and then reluctantly reached out to take it. He couldn’t help but feel like he was handling a hatching dragon - what was he supposed to do with it?</p><p> </p><p>“I was thinking a gentle spar,” Master Koon said.</p><p> </p><p>Harry blinked at him. After a moment of hesitation he thumbed the blade on, and a beam of yellow light sprung out.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve already set the power levels to low,” Master Koon said encouragingly. Was he supposed to just… <em> swing </em>this at him?</p><p> </p><p>Harry nodded slightly and cocked his head to listen. It felt like something was nudging him into a stance that felt wholly unnatural, legs set a little wider, knees bent.</p><p> </p><p>Master Koon seemed to consider that a sign that he was ready because he sunk into his own stance. They both stayed there, waiting for the other to make the first move.</p><p> </p><p>The swing from Koon was gentle and Harry stepped backwards rather than try to parry it. The next few were like that too. One of the 104th shouted something that had Ricks slam him into a headlock and hiss into his ear roughly.</p><p> </p><p>Koon was slowly speeding up and Harry could feel the adrenaline start to kick in. He was nearly backed up against a wall and his eyes darted around. He raised his sabre and the jolt that swung through him when the blades met rang through his bones. Another swipe and then another and all Harry could see was Voldemort’s red blade in hand.</p><p> </p><p>His sabre went flying to one side and he was moving before he really thought about it, <em> petrificus totalus </em> springing into being without wand or words. Koon’s legs snapped together and Harry moved smoothly into a move that Lucian had taught him, sending his weight forward and the Jedi slamming down onto the ground. Koon sent himself into a flip and Harry could almost <em> see </em> the way he used the Force to snap the spell’s hold. Harry was still moving though and an <em> expelliarmus </em> tugged at Koon’s lightsabre but didn’t send it flying. Harry didn’t have time to grimace. He pulled a weight bench forward to send it smashing into Koon’s legs and when the Jedi was occupied in dodging, pulled Lucian’s blaster free from where he’d left it at the side. A few shots were deflected easily by the General - and then Koon <em> laughed </em> and deactivated his sabre.</p><p> </p><p>“An untraditional approach, Padawan!” he called cheerfully. Harry watched him approach and briefly safety checked the blaster before tucking it back away. </p><p> </p><p>“Master Koon,” Harry acknowledged sullenly. He suspected that had <em> not </em> been what Koon had been wanting to see - but how was he supposed to know how to use a lightsabre? That hadn’t been in his training manual.</p><p> </p><p>“How <em> did </em>you manage to freeze my legs like that?” Koon asked. He sounded more delighted than upset. “I’ve never felt anything like it!”</p><p> </p><p>Harry considered this. <em> You’re going to have to give information away, </em> Ricochet had told him. <em> Pick what it is and make sure they think you’re sharing everything you can. They know you had teachers and that’s not a bad thing. </em></p><p> </p><p>He let his brow furrow a bit. “Baby trick,” he explained vaguely. “Everyone do. Taught in defence class.”</p><p> </p><p>“But lightsabres are not taught in that class?” Koon asked and Harry wondered dryly what had gave it away - the fact that he hadn’t the first clue how to swing one, or the fact that even now the lightsabre was on the other side of the training hall. The glimpses he’d caught of other Jedi suggested that they normally weren’t more than an arms-length away.</p><p> </p><p>“No taught any,” Harry said. He could see Ricks twitching with the effort of not correcting his words and he took a certain amount of malicious glee in that. So maybe he played it up outside of the 304th. Why shouldn’t he?</p><p> </p><p>“I see,” Koon said thoughtfully. “I’m afraid lightsabre combat is considered a major skill for any Core Jedi.” He did sound regretful over that.</p><p> </p><p>Harry couldn’t stop the sigh that came. “So I learn?” he asked in resignation. There was <em> so much </em> to learn.</p><p> </p><p>“I will talk to the crechemasters about you joining classes,” Koon said. “Perhaps some one on one tutorial would serve you well to begin so that you might catch up before joining a group closer to your age.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry privately thought he’d prefer blaster lessons. He’d already spent more time than he preferred within arm’s reach of Voldemort, he didn’t see why he should learn a form of combat to exacerbate it.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes Master,” he said obediently.</p><p> </p><p>“How to start,” Koon said thoughtfully. “Are you familiar with the forms?”</p><p> </p><p>Wolffe seemed to think this meant that training was beginning in earnest and was snapping at the men to “quit gawping”. “The Commander doesn’t need you to watch his lessons!”</p><p> </p><p><em> Not your commander, </em> Harry thought but bit his tongue. If Lucian wasn’t able to take notes on this then Harry would be <em> grilled </em> this evening and Teejay had said that he’d teach him to play Sabacc. His shoulders dropped a bit, but he made sure to pay attention. The only thing worse would be if he <em> couldn’t </em>answer Lucian’s questions. Then there’d be research.</p><p> </p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>Harry stared out of the shuttle window as they approached Coruscant. It had only been the few days that Plo Koon had promised but those few days had been spent in a flurry of activity that kept his mind spinning. He didn’t <em> really </em> think he’d learnt much and he was still not even into the second chapter of his book on brains. How was he supposed to learn about healing when he was so <em> slow? </em></p><p> </p><p>Koon had at least let him take a look at Sen’s spine although he’d prevented him from doing any healing - it was too short a time period to undertake full healing and handing over someone with his Force signature imprinted into healing wounds was apparently worse than just keeping him in a broken state. “The temple healers are very good,” he’d been assured. Harry would hold his judgement.</p><p> </p><p>Coruscant was - a sight. Layers upon layers of buildings that sank into a labyrinth of passageways, not even a glimpse of green to be seen. Smog hung heavily over the city and it- Harry couldn’t quite explain it, but there was a <em> taste </em> to the city, like grease and death and corruption. He disliked it immensely.</p><p> </p><p>One of the 104th laughed at the look on Harry’s face. “Not like your home planet, Commander?” he asked teasingly. It wasn’t often that the 104th spoke to him, Harry typically insulated by a few red-and-gold members of the 304th at all times. <em> Like a kriffing honour guard, </em> Wolffe had snarled at one point which had been met by a number of blandly innocent looking smiles.</p><p> </p><p>“No,” Harry answered shortly. Certainly nothing like <em> Hogwarts </em> which remained the most beautiful place he’d ever seen, even with another three planets for comparison. </p><p> </p><p>“It can often be overwhelming for a first-time visitor,” Master Koon said. He had a habit of appearing right behind Harry, even with his breathing apparatus in place.  Harry had taken to extending his danger senses but Plo Koon seemed able to evade them with ease. “So much life.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry made a noise that could generously be interpreted as agreement. It wasn’t the <em> life </em>that bothered him but rather the… he reached out and grimaced. It felt ominous, like a threat that pulsed at his scar - just not yet directed at him.</p><p> </p><p>“The Jedi stay here?” he asked dubiously. If Hogwarts had been surrounded by a city this size there would have been <em> no chance </em> of keeping the students from sneaking out. So much distraction.</p><p> </p><p>“Founded four thousand years ago,” Master Koon confirmed placidly. He said some other things that Harry couldn’t quite catch, about ownership and the senate. Ricks would explain it to him later. Seefer glowered down at the buildings approaching with some animosity.</p><p> </p><p>“The troopers’ barracks are just outside the temple,” Koon said and that <em> did </em>catch Harry’s attention.</p><p> </p><p>“Not together?” he asked in horror and Master Koon made a soothing clicking sound. </p><p> </p><p>“The injured troopers will of course be in the temple itself,” he said. “The expectation is that the others will be housed in the standard barracks for comfort. The temple sadly does not have space for everyone.”</p><p> </p><p><em> But </em> , Harry wanted to protest. <em> But Seefer stops the nightmares and Lucian said we were going to watch his stupid holodrama from the beginning and I’ve still not worked out the rules to Sabacc. </em> Seefer shook his head minisculely and Harry breathed out.</p><p> </p><p>“Still visits?” Harry asked a little plaintively and Plo Koon settled a clawed hand on his shoulder. Harry managed not to flinch it off with some effort.</p><p> </p><p>“I will, of course, talk to the temple masters,” Plo Koon said soothingly. That wasn’t a yes. Harry thought about this.</p><p> </p><p>“Stay long?” he asked and this prompted a minor silence.</p><p> </p><p>“I am in discussions with Master Windu,” Master Koon said. “It is likely that you will stay for a few months when I am reassigned. When the 104th are back in the temple a second time, you and I will have a discussion about your preferred course of action.”</p><p> </p><p>“We have another mission sir?” Wolffe asked and Harry tensed under Koon’s hand. Did another mission mean that the 304th would be going with them?</p><p> </p><p>Koon hummed a little. “Not just yet,” he said contemplatively. “We will have a week or two of leave for the men. I would be surprised if we are not required after that, however.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry wasn’t sure Master Koon <em> got </em>surprised.</p><p> </p><p>“What about,” he started, and looked over Seefer desperately.</p><p> </p><p>“The 304th have been out on missions a little longer than the 104th,” Master Koon said. “Again, it is something that I will need to continue discussions with Master Windu on.”</p><p> </p><p>So there was a <em> chance </em> they wouldn’t be separated. Harry could feel the glances they were exchanging between them and wished he could lean into Seefer for a hug.</p><p> </p><p>“I am afraid, Padawan,” Koon said quietly, “That you will need to report to the Council about what you have seen.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry stiffened.</p><p> </p><p>“I know it may not be easy to repeat what has happened,” Master Koon continued, “But we must have as much information as possible on this Voldemort. Do you feel that you will be able to speak about this?”</p><p> </p><p><em> Can I say no? </em> Harry thought a little bitterly. But - it was fine, it was expected, he’d already talked with the 304th about what should be put into a report and apparently Sith Lords riding in his soul were not a part of it.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes Master,” he said obediently. Koon gave him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder.</p><p> </p><p>“It will be well,” Koon more rumbled than said. Staring at the miasma shrouding the city-planet, Harry wasn’t sure he agreed.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Chapter 22</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Mace Windu had a headache.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t an unusual feeling. From the moment the Republic had descended into war, he’d felt a pressure in the Force come to descend onto his shoulders. It had been a scant relief that Yoda had taken the role of Master of the Order some few months previous - and yet that didn’t stop the crushing responsibility that came with every Jedi dispatched, every report of casualties that came back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Eskilon-5 disaster was perhaps the worst the Jedi had seen since the start of the war.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not because of the scale of the casualties - although tragic, more yet had fallen at both Geonosis and Christophsis. That Master Koon has described it as caused by one being, however, and that the few survivors were a handful of clones and what by all accounts was a traumatised young Padawan… Mace could feel his lips narrow in irritation and took a moment to let the emotion go into the Force.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Padawan himself was… not an </span>
  <em>
    <span>issue</span>
  </em>
  <span> precisely, because the younglings of the Jedi were cherished, but an anomaly. He didn’t mean to speak ill of the dead but Master Krell had left them a merry little problem packaged up in a child that spoke a mix of the Besalisk tongue and what sounded like the distinctive patois of the troopers, mostly Basic with the occasional diversion into Mandoa with little comprehension of the difference between the latter two. If he had to take a child from outside the Core temple, could he not have had the decency to fill in the background information in his file? They’d populated the information as best they could but it was hardly close to comprehensive.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Harry Potter, house Gryffindor</span>
  </em>
  <span> his file read. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Age 12, birthdate Helona 3. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Birth planet was left blank. Species was listed </span>
  <em>
    <span>hybrid - human cross.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Some detail on past injuries, a little listing the standard Force skills. Plo Koon had added a note regarding complete lack of lightsabre training - what had Krell heard from the Force that he thought taking an </span>
  <em>
    <span>unarmed, untrained child </span>
  </em>
  <span>into a warzone was sensible?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mace wanted to pin Plo Koon down for his impression, but he knew better than to bias his own perception. He glanced over the accompanying trooper files and frowned a little. All of them had listed </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gryffindor</span>
  </em>
  <span> under surname, a field that the clones typically left blank. They had certainly been through trying times together so a minor affectation like that was not in itself a bad sign - indeed, it spoke well of the Padawan that the clones were fond of him, as Mace had found his own men to typically be good judges of characters. And yet… it was not a typical Jedi action. They would see.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d expected the Padawan to be small and indeed he was, dressed in neat brown robes that Koon had requisitioned from the supply office as soon as landing. Wild black hair and vivid green eyes hidden behind battered looking glass lenses - the corrective surgery was already scheduled along with a vast array of vaccines he was apparently missing. He looked around the chamber with wide eyes, blinking a little at the hologram figures of Ki-Adi-Mundi and Shaak Ti.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mace tried to reach out to get a sense of the Padawan’s emotions and was surprised to be met by a glowing lattice of light - a shield thick enough that he didn’t think he could pierce it if he tried. He probed around the edges and kept his flinch to himself as he saw the disastrous remnants of what had been the Padawan’s training bond, now shattered and bleeding at the edges. He made a mental note of the requirement for a mind healer and saw Adi Galli doing much the same. Normally he would be cautious of such a shield but there was nothing dark about it, simply protective.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Able to lower your shield, are you young Padawan?” Yoda asked and Mace watched as the boy mouthed the words to himself, apparently trying to make sense of them. He frowned and the glowing faded down a little bit not much- enough that a trickle of emotion could be felt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Lek,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> the boy said in Mandoa, then “Good now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Further can you go?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Padawan tried again, a frown of fierce concentration on his face. The shield did not fade further and Mace waved it off. There was enough to sense if the boy was being genuine, he supposed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I not,” the Padawan said and grimaced. His shrug was a little thing and Mace could already see Shaak Ti melting a bit. Plo Koon was, of course, radiating encouragement and Mace eyed him a little sourly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The report the Padawan gave was a stumbling thing but matched what had been written and submitted in almost all ways. Mace focused more on his emotions - the expected grief, tinged of remembered fear, but very much overlaid by a core of determination and desire to protect. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Good</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thought quietly. Even now the Padawan didn’t reach for rage or sink into the depths of hatred when he spoke of this </span>
  <em>
    <span>Voldemort</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It seemed his teachers had taught him well. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There were still some things that were not addressed however.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did Master Krell take you from your temple?” Mace asked abruptly. The Padawan looked at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” he said clearly. “Found on Christophsis.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mace breathed in. He’d expected that - there had been no way that he could think of that Krell could have diverted his entire troop to another planet ahead of dispatch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So one of your teachers took you to Christophsis?” he clarified and the Padawan shook his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No. On Christophsis, </span>
  <em>
    <span>trooper</span>
  </em>
  <span> found me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You were not left with Master Krell?” Shaak Ti asked in mild concern. The Padawan shook his head. “Then who escorted you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For the first time the Padawan hesitated in his recital. There was a little bit of wariness in him that Mace studied carefully.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No,” he said again. “Fought.” He grimaced a little. “Lost. Woke up Christophsis, people dying.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What in the Force…? </span>
  </em>
  <span>No one would kidnap a Padawan to just then abandon them on another planet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You fought this Voldemort?” Plo Koon said gently and Mace sent him an irritated look. That hadn’t been in the report.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The boy nodded sharply. “He want,” he grimaced. “Stone. To come back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because he was dead,” Plo Koon said and there were jolts of surprise echoing the chamber. This Sith could come back from the dead now?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I - maybe?” The boy was radiating a sorry kind of confusion now. “Dumbledore,” - a previous teacher, Mace had noted from an earlier report, “say yes, but Voldemort say,” and the words the child said were like nothing Mace had ever heard before. A glance up and the boy seemed to realise he wasn’t understood. He tried again. “Shadow. Not alive, not dead.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Some kind of Sith technique, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Mace thought grimly. This was unpleasant to hear.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And this Stone?” one of the other councillors prompted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That </span>
  </em>
  <span>prompted a flash of darker emotion, something like contempt and dislike. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Wrong,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>the Padawan said flatly. “Makes life.” He looked at them. “Was broken. To fix - death.” He swallowed. “Should be broken again,” he said firmly. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Takes</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mace felt his own revulsion at the thought of it - a very Sith thing, to steal life from others to prolong your own. That said, they would need to study it to discover if whatever the Sith had done could be undone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hear your warning, we do,” Yoda said, thumping his stick down firmly. The Padawan’s eyes sharpened at the realisation that they had not said they would follow it. There was a moment when Mace thought he would speak again, but instead the boy bowed his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So the Sith tried to steal this artifact and you fought to stop him,” Mace summarised. “Were you around other artifacts at the time?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Padawan nodded. “Mirror. All - </span>
  <em>
    <span>old.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And old Force artifacts could act unpredictably, Mace knew. He sighed. His headache seemed to be getting worse.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Why did you not tell this to Master Krell?” he asked - even temple secrets were no excuse to not share something of this magnitude.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did!” the boy flared. “Told all. He said he deal.” There was no dishonesty in his words and Mace stared at him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What had Krell been thinking then? </span>
  </em>
  <span>His records had said little of value, save for a flurry of calculations that made little sense to any who reviewed them. He’d been sparse in his reporting on all fronts, providing little save the occasional casualty report and accomplishment of objectives.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps you can tell us of your home temple,” Shaak Ti suggested gently. “If you vanished in a fight, your masters must be worried for you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Padawan didn’t show the jolt of longing that sprung through him at that. “Your planet?” Shaak Ti prompted, and the boy shrugged.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Already search,” he said glumly. “Not there. Planet Earth, around Sun. Nine planets, is third.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mace frowned. “Perhaps a project for a senior Padawan,” he suggested to the other councillors. “There must be some record somewhere.” He had to admit that the name was unfamiliar to him however. There were nods of agreement.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Further questions did not clear much up. The boy talked of his teachers and his housemates - the term used for what were apparently the other initiatives. None of it prompted familiarity, although Yoda had frowned over the names Dumbledore and Flitwick as though they might have had some value to them. Mace wrote a few notes down to set Master Nu on the matter. Talk of the clones was met with some wariness and Mace kept his face carefully clear at the evidence of burgeoning attachment. It was difficult to avoid in such trying situations.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The boy was dismissed when his voice had gone rough with talking and he’d started to sway a little with exhaustion. There was silence in the chamber when he was gone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do not like this,” Mace announced firmly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Situation or Padawan?” Yoda asked delicately and Mace snorted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The situation. The Padawan has done well for his age.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He is very talented,” Plo said. They were strong words for the Kel Dor and Mace leant back in his seat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But unfamiliar with lightsabres?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“His training is… different,” Plo said diplomatically. “But his grasp of the Force is </span>
  <em>
    <span>wonderful.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>He looked a little distant. “He did some healing on the trip back - carefully, I would not risk a Padawan!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mace saw Depa biting back her sharp comments. Healing was a risky enterprise for younglings, too easy to draw off their own energies and cause themselves harm.</span>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The Force… </span>
  <em>
    <span>sang </span>
  </em>
  <span>for him,” Plo Koon said thoughtfully. “He did nothing more than ask and it sprang to his will. It reminded me of nothing so much as our own young Skywalker.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have his midichlorians been tested?” Mace asked and Plo shook his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The healers will see to it eventually,” he said placidly. “I have always thought it an unreliable measure.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was an old argument and not one worth revisiting. Mace did not </span>
  <em>
    <span>disagree</span>
  </em>
  <span> however.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You think he should continue as a Padawan,” Mace said and Plo smiled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think it would be a great loss to us if he did not,” he said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Attachment, the clones are,” Yoda challenged. It was more thoughtful than disagreement.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And we do not discourage attachments provided they can be well-managed,” Plo Koon said. “Did we not allow young Skywalker and Kenobi to stay together after Master Jinn’s death to reduce the potential for trauma, when there were far more qualified masters who put their names forward?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mace conceded to that grudgingly. He’d disagreed with that at the time and he continued to think it poorly chosen, but a Jedi could not hold on to the past.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If he enjoys healing, the Service Corps may be more appropriate,” he said and Plo cocked his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not a poor choice,” he allowed, “but I feel, as Master Krell did, that he has potential as a Padawan.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Will you take him then?” Adi Galli asked. Plo Koon made a rumbling sound of thought.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The Force does not discourage me from it,” he said slowly. “It does not yet require me to act, however. I thought perhaps a few months for him to adjust to a Core temple, perhaps allow other Masters to consider, and then discuss with him on his return his preferences.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’d allow another Master to take him?” Mace asked, a little surprised. Plo had always had a soft spot for the younglings.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I would allow him a choice,” Plo said firmly. “I think that we would do well together and I would hope that any other Master with interest would allow him the same courtesy as I am giving.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And the clones?” Ki-Adi-Mundi prompted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Speak to the mind healers,” Plo said. “I am of the opinion that to detach them would cause more harm than good at this stage. They have been through terrible experiences - perhaps a stint as temple guards would allow them a semblance of peace before we throw them back into this war.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There were noises of agreement. No one was happy about the way the clones - the </span>
  <em>
    <span>sentients</span>
  </em>
  <span> - were being used. Everyday it felt like they heard of more deaths. The Senate had made them the Jedi’s responsibility and it was galling to the extreme the way they had to be used to ensure that the Sith could not grasp hold of the Republic. It was a Jedi’s duty to see the Greater Good, but… sometimes compassion was needed as well.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I fear attachment may become inevitable in this war,” Depa said quietly. “They are ours and it seems that no one else will defend them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We do our duty,” Mace said grimly. And now they did their duty in the face of yet another Sith. He could feel shatterpoints approaching. The decisions they made in the next few months would change the galaxy, he knew that in every cell of him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You should take your rest, Master Koon,” he said almost absentmindedly. “We expect the scouts back from Abregado soon enough, and I believe that we will need to dispatch the 104th.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We will be prepared,” Plo said and Mace sighed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Where had this all gone wrong? </span>
  </em>
  <span>he wondered. Complacency had become the way of the Jedi. They would need to address this and band together, build something stronger.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yoda tapped his stick and the Council moved on to the next topic for discussion. The days only ever got longer.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>In conclusion: the Jedi are trying their best. :( Doesn’t mean that the 304th are going to start liking them any time soon!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Chapter 23</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was nearly 1AM and Harry was slipping back into the Temple. Master Koon and the 104th has been dispatched a little over a week previous and Harry had been taking advantage of the the disappearance of Commander Wolffe’s eagle eye. Apparently he believed in things like curfews.<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>Harry thought it was all a bit pointless and it wasn’t like he wasn’t doing the work assigned to him from various classes he’d been signed up to - admittedly to an absolutely terrible quality, given he didn’t understand the majority of what was being asked, but it was still getting done. Who even cared about whatever the Ruusan Reformation was? He carefully did not think of the fact that he was still practicing lightsabre forms with nine year olds, even after he’d had a tutor assigned.</p><p> </p><p>The Padawan dorms were an odd freedom. They were dormitories for Padawans that did not reside with their Masters for whatever reason - incompatible biology for living space, preference of the Master, or, and more increasingly, the orphaning of a Padawan following their Master’s death. Apparently it was not uncommon for a Master to leave a young Padawan behind when assigned to a risky mission - and nowadays, not that uncommon for the Master not to come back. The dorm supervisors were being drafted to act as grief counsellors and Harry had already been forced to sit through several excruciatingly painful sessions.</p><p> </p><p>The dorms were relatively independent though, with between two to four Padawans per room and access to both a common area and a kitchen if they preferred not to use the canteen. A shopping list went up every week that could be added to - <em> within reason </em> a very stern looking woman with buzzing wings keeping her afloat had told him. Seefer’s decantation day (the equivalent of a birthday, Harry thought?) was coming up and he was good enough in a kitchen to bake a cake if only he could work out what the equivalent ingredients were. Everything was just so <em> weird </em> here.</p><p> </p><p>Harry had managed to set up an agreement with his single roommate - a Wookiee well-accustomed to language difficulties who’d promptly produced a translation datapad on introduction - that <em> they </em> would say nothing about his habit of disappearing from the room and <em> he </em>would say nothing about their habit of filling every spare inch of the room with plants. He thought this was well worth having to dodge trailing leaves to get into bed.</p><p> </p><p>The rest of handling exiting the Temple was managed quite neatly by projecting that image of <em> normality </em> that he’d first used on Christophsis. It was amazing, he thought a little dimly, just how much could be done without a wand. He barely even drew it now, only occasionally when near the 304th and he spotted something to repair or wanted to demonstrate something that he couldn’t find the words for.</p><p> </p><p>He passed another robed Jedi, treading as silently as he could manage. There were two ahead, their heads bent together as they discussed something of apparent deep importance. “The senate,” one was saying and another was shaking his head very firmly.</p><p> </p><p>“You know that we can’t wait. There’s<em> still </em> no sign of where Sifo-Dyas found the money,” he said in low Basic. Harry moved to skirt around them.</p><p> </p><p>The Force blared <em> danger </em>at him and he was able to stop before the lightsabre was brandished too closely to his neck. “Would you care to drop your shadows?” the second speaker said very pleasantly and Harry swallowed carefully. He did as he was told.</p><p> </p><p>The first speaker closed her eyes in exasperation. It was Adi Galli, a master he’d seen only briefly in the council room.</p><p> </p><p>“What exactly are you doing out at this time Padawan?” she asked sternly and Harry was abruptly reminded of Professor McGonagall.</p><p> </p><p>“And who taught you that trick?” the man followed up, now more relaxed that Harry had been recognised. Harry considered his answer.</p><p> </p><p>“Exploring?” he offered a little weakly and the expression on Adi Galli’s face had him amending it quickly. “Was at barracks,” he said, carefully dropping a few words in a way that drove Ricks quite mad. “Homework help?” He brandished his datapad as proof - he <em> had </em> spent time with the 304th discussing the difference in assault approaches. “Sorry Master,” he offered despondently. He didn’t even know what the equivalent of detentions were here.</p><p> </p><p>“There is a curfew for a <em> reason,” </em> Master Galli said sternly. She took his datapad from him for a quick look but seemed satisfied by it.</p><p> </p><p>The man laughed. “Every Padawan breaks it,” he said cheerfully.</p><p> </p><p>“Not every Padawan is <em> you </em>, Quinlan Vos.”</p><p> </p><p>“And the galaxy is a tragically poorer place for it. But you’ve not answered my question - who taught you that trick?”</p><p> </p><p>Harry shrugged uncomfortably. “No one,” he said. “Taught myself. Makes droids ignore you.”</p><p> </p><p>“Now <em> that </em> sounds something worth learning,” Quinlan Vos said with a delighted smile on his face. “Some kind of variant of a mind-trick?” Harry shrugged again. “Can you do it again?” Vos asked. Master Galli pinched at the bridge of her nose.</p><p> </p><p>Harry eyed them and then sighed. It took a few moments of careful thought, but he was able to gather a masking of Force around him, that nudge of <em> this is not important, no need to pay attention. </em></p><p> </p><p>“<em> Fascinating </em>,” Vos breathed. Master Galli squinted at Harry, her gaze skittling away every few moments.</p><p> </p><p>“That is a little unnerving,” she commented quietly. “We may need to revisit our security.” She cocked her head. “Even knowing you are there I find myself not wanting to pay attention to you.”</p><p> </p><p>“And it’s passive!” Vos said brightly. “It’s hard to detect because it’s not pushing <em> into </em> the mind, it’s wrapped around himself. I think…” and he frowned a little, drawing in the Force himself. For a moment, he seemed very dull - background, not worth paying attention to - and then it flickered and he was back to being a very present Jedi. “Harder than it seems,” he said but he didn’t sound upset by this. “Who’s your Master?”</p><p> </p><p>“Master Krell,” Harry said. Adi Galli made a motion to try and stop Vos from speaking again but the man either didn’t see or didn’t pay attention.</p><p> </p><p>“That old bastard?” he asked. “How is he? Still tormenting everyone not quite up to his standards of perfection?”</p><p> </p><p>“Dead,” Harry said bluntly. “Masters, can I go?”</p><p> </p><p>Adi Galli sighed. “I would talk punishment but I think having Master Vos interested in you is punishment enough,” she said in resignation.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t think you’ll be escaping me,” Vos said, any shame over his earlier misstep entirely hidden. “In fact, I’d like to see it in action - what are you doing tomorrow?”</p><p> </p><p>“Remedial lightsabre,” Harry sighed and Vos snorted.</p><p> </p><p>“Can’t say I’m any help there,” he said. “Obi-Wan was the lightsabre prodigy of our batch. I’ll get someone to cover you for a catch-up lesson though - is it Master Hyssk that’s teaching you?”</p><p> </p><p>Harry nodded and Vos clapped his hands together. “Excellent,” he said. “Meet me at the canteen tomorrow at midday. We have a mission. Don’t wear robes.”</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Quinlan, </em>” Master Galli said and Vos grinned at her.</p><p> </p><p>“He’s a Padawan!” he said brightly. “Missions are an entirely valid use of time.”</p><p> </p><p>Galli waved Harry away and he didn’t stay to hear them descend into a whispered argument.</p><p> </p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>Harry had managed to track down a set of clothes that looked relatively normal to him, neat trousers paired with a faintly oversized shirt and all bundled into a heavy over-layer that resembled something that he’d tentatively call a hoodie. He felt distinctly out of place in the canteen, even ignoring the quizzical looks directed his way. He’d abandoned the training sabre he’d been given for a tiny blaster and an ever-present vibroknife Seefer had insisted on him tucking into a boot. He’d also, with some satisfaction, removed the ridiculous looking fake braid he’d been given to pin into his hair as a sign of his Padawan status.</p><p> </p><p>“Better than I was expecting,” Vos said brightly. He had a long overcoat on over very tight looking leggings, and thick black gloves. Harry wasn’t sure what was under the coat but thought he could see straps. He tilted Harry’s face up and slapped some flesh-coloured putty onto his scar, a moment of coolness that faded away in seconds.</p><p> </p><p>“Master,” Harry said in acknowledgment and Vos waved a hand.</p><p> </p><p>“None of that,” he said. “Today I’ll be your Uncle Ry and you’ll be…?”</p><p> </p><p>Harry suspected ‘Harry’ was not an acceptable answer. “Nephew Ron?” he suggested,  and Vos thought that over.</p><p> </p><p>“Not quite typical enough,” he said apologetically. “How about Ty?”</p><p> </p><p>“Ty and Ry?” Harry demanded and Vos laughed.</p><p> </p><p>“Family names often follow a theme,” he said. “Come on, off we go.”</p><p> </p><p>“To do what?” Harry demanded suspiciously as he was escorted out. Several knights sent him sympathetic looks which did not ease his nerves.</p><p> </p><p>“We’re going to see how your neat little trick works in practice,” Vos said. “I need to have a chat with a contact and you might want to take a look around while I do that. All very innocent.”</p><p> </p><p>“Look for <em> what </em>?” Harry demanded flatly.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, anything,” Vos said vaguely. He was ordering a grungy-looking speeder now from one of the Jedi support staff. “Just follow what the Force tells you Ty.”</p><p> </p><p>That was immensely unhelpful. “Comm?” Harry demanded, and then added a highly sarcastic, “<em> Uncle Ry.” </em></p><p> </p><p>Vos fumbled one out of one of many pockets and threw it to Harry. Harry paused to key in Seefer and Lucian’s numbers under the emergency contacts and then, after a suspicious glare at Vos, the number the man provided.</p><p> </p><p>They settled into the speeder and Harry decided to try again. “Mission briefing,” he demanded and Vos sent him a confused look.</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t speak Mandoa, kid,” he said and Harry sighed. He hadn’t even realised the troopers didn’t speak ‘proper’ Basic and it continued to cause problems. Why were there so many bloody languages?</p><p> </p><p>“Objectives,” got a better response and Vos navigated his way smoothly through the <em> flying traffic </em> that Harry would never become accustomed to.</p><p> </p><p>“Like I said, I have a contact,” Vos said vaguely. “Separatist. I think she might be more of a triple-agent than a double-agent though, and I’d like you to take a look at what’s going on behind her bar while I distract her. Failing that, I’d like you to leave a nice little bug behind.</p><p> </p><p>Harry thought of Seefer’s potential reaction to this. He grabbed the bug.</p><p> </p><p>“Where?” he asked. “Also, am Padawan - <em> trainee. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>“This is a perfectly normal Padawan mission,” Vos insisted. “My Master used to send me out on similar all the time. And we’ll be in the lower quarter, not far from the red light district.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry sent him a sardonic look and tapped out a message to Lucian, who he trusted not to come storming out in quite the same fashion as Seefer would have. <em> Jedi mission, lower quarter, near red lights district, </em> he sent in what was unlikely to be anywhere near the correct spelling. <em> With Master Vos. Should be quick. </em></p><p> </p><p><em> Back-up? </em>came a second later.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Master Vos says ‘very normal’, scouting only. </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> Send location when available, </em> Lucian sent back. <em> Won’t interfere, but will be nearby. </em></p><p> </p><p>“I hope you realise that is terrible Op-Sec,” Master Vos said lightly and Harry shrugged.</p><p> </p><p>“Didn’t say I <em> couldn’t </em>tell anyone,” he pointed out. </p><p> </p><p>“That’s fair,” Vos said. Krell would have been <em> furious </em>with him for something similar. Harry reckoned he was probably better off following the training manual that the 304th put together than any of the vague strictures from the Jedi.</p><p> </p><p>The speeder was parked smoothly and rolled into a space in a nearby building. There were pathways interconnecting the skyscrapers and even here, a good kilometre from the surface and sky, the ground could not be seen. Grungy looking lights hung from various points sending long shadows out.</p><p> </p><p>Vos leapt onto a pathway near a particularly bright set of lights. “Now Ty, my boy, you <em> will </em> behave won’t you?”</p><p> </p><p>Harry gave him a cheeky grin. “Yes Uncle Ry,” he said in a voice that promised nothing of the sort. Vos seemed to find that particularly funny, dropping one hand onto his hair. The glowing green lights proclaimed the bar “<em> Eleventh Heaven” </em>and Harry texted that to Lucian before they entered.</p><p> </p><p>It was smoky and Harry had to resist the instinct to clean blurry glasses that he’d discarded following his eyesight correction surgery. It smelt of something that he couldn’t place - sweet and sharp, like a berry coated in thick chilli. He managed not to cough and Vos steered him forward with a steady hand.</p><p> </p><p>The woman they were meeting was the bartender, a being with a face faintly reminiscent of a wolf and long teeth that marked her clearly as a carnivore. She was wearing the same kind of tight clothing as Vos.</p><p> </p><p>“Rraffur, darling,” Vos drawled in a voice far away from his normal sharp accent. Harry managed not to look up at him, instead letting his gaze drift indistinct figures in the smoke. Vos nudged him gently.</p><p> </p><p>“Go off and play, Ty,” he said, sounding particularly bored, tossing him a credit chip. “Do try not to get kidnapped again.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry glowered up at him but didn’t think he could manage the same accent. He stomped off, catching a brief-</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t think a woman would ever touch you, Ry.”</p><p> </p><p>“Come now, if they did I’d hardly let them saddle me with a <em> child </em>. Ty’s my nephew and a duller child you’ve never met.”</p><p> </p><p><em> Thanks Uncle Ry, </em> Harry thought sharply. He breathed in and drew the Force up around him, leaning into a corner. It felt reassuring around him. The whole <em> listen to the Force </em>piece though… he tried to nudge at it and got a playful nudge back which didn’t explain much.</p><p> </p><p>Okay, he thought with a frown. Vos had said back of the bar so he could just take a wander through there. He ambled nearer the wall and tried to find the service entrance. The place <em> stank </em> and left him feeling dizzy. A little woman came popping out of the wall in front of him and Harry took a bewildered step back - but there, that was a door. He slipped through it and bypassed an agonisingly loud kitchen.</p><p> </p><p>No one spared him another glance as he worked his way through the corridor. There was a likely looking office he stuck his head into before giving up at the sheer quantity of Aurebesh scrawled over datapads. Almost without thinking he pocketed a key card.</p><p> </p><p>He nudged at Vos lightly and got a wave of <em> fine, continue. </em> Continue with <em> what? </em> This felt like the most useless exercise he’d ever engaged in. He slid the key card into the last remaining door absentmindedly and stepped inside. An armour-clad figure had a blaster pointed at him steadily before it let it waver and turn away.</p><p> </p><p>“Just a waiter,” the armoured being muttered to themself. “Rraffurr needs to remind the staff not to come back here.”</p><p> </p><p>The being’s armour was faintly similar to the troopers’, but painted a dark blue colour. Harry swallowed and tried to decide whether he should move closer. It was typing something on a holoport before it shut it down abruptly and stalked out. Harry moved over to the holoport hesitantly. It didn’t help him much. He fitted the bug behind the ‘port and brushed it with a whisper of Force breathing <em> not here </em> before hurrying after the armoured being, trying to make sure he was as soundless as possible. His head was starting to throb a little from the effort of keeping his <em> notice-me-not </em>up. Vos was noisy back in the bar, drunkenly slurring something to the unimpressed looking barmaid.</p><p> </p><p>“Uncle Ry,” he pushed, letting his shielding drop. He didn’t dare say more because of his accent.</p><p> </p><p>“Not <em> now,” </em> Vos said irritably. “Brats, can’t take them anywhere.”</p><p> </p><p>Harry let his bottom lip wobble a bit and he could feel Vos’ amusement trip over him. “But,” he dared and Vos pulled out the speeder keys.</p><p> </p><p>“Just - go sit in there,” he said. Harry snatched the keys off him and glowered, prompting laughs from the surrounding beings.</p><p> </p><p>“Fine,” Harry said sulkily and drifted out. The blue armour was heading in the same direction as him and he frowned. Some instinct made him speed up, drift a little closer - until that armoured voice was suddenly behind him, suddenly much closer.</p><p> </p><p>“Now why might you be following me, <em> ad’ika </em>?” the voice asked, echoing in the helmet. Harry squeaked.</p>
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<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Chapter 24</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sha Chal hadn’t earned her armour through lack of caution. It admittedly wasn’t something the Death Watch were known well for, not after the Mand’alor had carved his bloody swathe through them before deciding to disgrace his people and his ancestors. Nonetheless, she was trusted to step foot in Coruscant to serve as the primary source of Coruscant information <em>because </em>of her ability to notice things that weren’t quite right. Like the kid following her.</p><p>He looked tiny under the dim lights of the lower quarter; tucked up in a thick jumper, all big eyes and harmless to the bone. Sha knew better than to trust that although she had to admit it did take some effort not to relax her grip on her blaster.</p><p>“Sorry,” the kid muttered quietly, shame-faced. “Didn’t think you’d notice me.”</p><p>There was something about his accent… she frowned a little.</p><p>“Not answering the question,” she said sharply. The kid eyed her blaster warily but set his jaw rather than flinch. Sha refused to feel guilty about it. Too many people had thought to take advantage of the Mando creed around children previously.</p><p>“Was curious,” the kid said. “Your <em>beskar’gam</em>, I didn’t know what the colour meant.” His accent on beskar’gam was <em>perfect</em> – not the typical Coruscant faltering over what syllable to emphasise. Sha studied him carefully. If she followed the rest of his accent – yes, it matched, with some variation for travel.</p><p>“And curiosity often makes you follow armed warriors?” she asked in polite incredulity. The kid’s shoulders sagged noticeable.</p><p>“<em>Buir’s gonna kill me,” </em>he whispered, nearly under his breath. Sha kept herself from freezing with great effort.</p><p>“Maybe?” the kid tried hopefully. “Was heading to the speeder to wait and – just saw you quickly, didn’t mean anything bad.</p><p>It wasn’t out of the <em>question</em>, Sha thought clinically. Unlikely, perhaps. He might not be old enough for battle at that size, but likely old enough that a parent might allow him to travel short distances unaccompanied – and yes, there was a blaster tucked under a loose shirt, and that was most certainly a vibroblade well-hidden in one of his boots. The <em>coincidence </em>of a Mando-raised <em>adiik </em>coming drifting in her direction was certainly something to be suspicious of.</p><p>She holstered her blaster with a tight little smile. “Your <em>buir</em> normally let you out alone?”</p><p>The kid didn’t even seem to notice the use of the word, his shoulders instead hunching up somewhere around his ears. “He’s nearby!” he protested.</p><p>A nearby potential Mandalorian warrior, one that might feel secure enough to send his own <em>adiik </em>to ‘accidentally’ bump into a Death Watch soldier. <em>Interesting</em>. It was possible she was overcalculating this so she set that thought to one side in case other possibilities might arise.</p><p>“What’s your name, kid?” she asked and the kid looked at her a little sullenly.</p><p>“Ty,” he lied. It wasn’t a <em>bad</em> lie, but one of his shoulders dropped a little the same way she’d seen a number of Mando’s do when they were readying themselves for a potential fight. Someone should probably point that out to him.</p><p>“Ty,” she instead repeated sardonically, to see him twitch. “Have a surname with that, <em>Ty</em>?”</p><p>“…No,” the kid tried and Sha couldn’t stop the fast snort.</p><p>“<em>Sithspit</em>, kid, you even going to try here?” Sha asked, and watched his ears turn bright red. He mumbled something in another language. “Fine, with me.”</p><p>“Where to?” <em>Ty</em> said suspiciously. <em>Now</em> he was going to try that on?</p><p>“There a kaf-shop around the corner,” Sha said. “Comm your…” and she paused deliberately over the word. “<em>Buir</em>. We’ll talk there.”</p><p>“About what?” the kid asked, and Sha rolled her eyes under her helmet.</p><p>“About armour colours, obviously,” she said sarcastically. Armour colours and sigils, perhaps. She was feeling unusually reckless.</p><p>The kid jabbed a number on his comm and dropped his voice to exchange a few words. Whoever was on the other side said something back and then he was tucking his comm away again. “He’s coming,” Ty said unnecessarily. Sha Chal inclined her head.</p><p>“After you,” she said and mostly managed to keep the air of mockery out of her voice. The kid eyed her sharply, tilting a sharp little chin up but did as he was told.</p><p>Jahee’s was a scruffy little dump of a kaf-shop, filled with various pieces of junk that the owner – conspicuously <em>not</em> named Jahee – claimed to be fixing at any point in time. The kaf was blacker than a supermassive though, and the roughly patched hoverchairs were the most comfortable things she’d ever sunk into. Sha cast the kid a quick glance before ordering him a black spire hot chocolate and after a moment’s thought, a basket of arti-chips. He was too skinny. Sliding her helmet off felt riskier than she cared to admit but she wouldn’t start a negotiation with an <em>adiik </em>present in bad faith.</p><p>She’d obviously taken the chair with the best view of the exits so she expected to be the first one to see an approaching Mandalorian. It was the kid’s shoulders that warned her though, melting away into something relieved even before the door slid open. Sha flicked her eyes up and then stiffened in outrage.</p><p>A <em>meat-droid</em>. They’d sent a <em>clone</em> of the disgraced Mand’alor. His armour was painted in red and gold over the new start white that the meat-droids used and he had a blaster slung at his hip. He paused a little at seeing her bare-faced and she wondered for a second – did he have no <em>honour, </em>they didn’t follow the Creed – before he slid his own helmet off. She wasn’t sure if seeing his skin was more or less offensive.</p><p>Ty began saying something – a “Se-,” before he rapidly changed it to “Buir!” The fast check that the meat-droid ran over the kid was one any Mandalorian was familiar with, status-check before addressing the threat.</p><p>Sha stilled and tried to recalculate.</p><p>“Mando,” the meat-droid said blandly. He rested a possessive hand on the kid’s shoulder.</p><p>“Clone,” she greeted back coolly, hiding the way her mind was spinning. They were <em>clones</em>, not Mandalorians. They didn’t have the souls of true Mandalorians, everyone knew that. They’d been created from a worthless <em>hut’uun</em>, who’d destroyed everyone who could fight for the true nature of Mandalore and then abandoned them to the culture-killer, Kryze.</p><p>The meat-droid’s eyes narrowed. He looked young enough, she thought. Perhaps not thirty yet. That was interesting in itself though, given the traitor had been just past forty at his death. How early had he started his filthy experiments for the Kaminoans?</p><p>“You wanted to talk,” he said shortly.</p><p>“About armour colours,” she agreed. She let an unpleasant smile rise to her face and the kid pushed his drink away sharply. “Tell me, do you even know the meaning of the colours you wear?”</p><p><em>How dare you</em>, she wanted to say. <em>How dare you wear our colours and use our language and our ways when I have not seen any of you sworn to the Resol’nare. Clones of dishonour, your maker’s sins carried over to each and every one of you.</em> She was calm though, and patient. The Death Watch had lost too much to be noisy in their fury.</p><p>“Honour,” the meat-droid said. “And vengeance.” His own smile was just as unpleasant. “My brothers and I <em>earned </em>these colours.” He paused and the smile softened a little. “Bravery for some,” he conceded and Ty looked up at him with a fierce kind of possessiveness in his eyes.</p><p>“How would one of yours earn colours?” Sha Chal asked. She tried to spit the words but couldn’t help the curiosity sneaking in.</p><p>“They saved my life,” Ty spoke up defensively. “Brothers died and they <em>still </em>fought to save me.”</p><p>Sha Chal paused. <em>Siblings</em>, she thought. <em>Vod</em>’e. There was a tightness around the meat-droid’s eyes. “Any Mando would expect to do the same,” she said grudgingly, and flagged not-Jahee over. She didn’t bother to ask the meat-droid what he wanted – if he couldn’t appreciate the kaf here he wasn’t worth talking to. “You going to sit or not?”</p><p>The – <em>clone</em> sat.</p><p>Sha Chal took a noisy slurp of her kaf and stared at him.</p><p>So. What did she know about the fake claimants, she thought dispassionately. Skilled, certainly. Dumb, dying in rank after rank for their <em>jetii </em>masters. Property, not real people. She glanced over at the kid. Probably not able to adopt anyone, not while their sentience was still being debated in the Senate chamber.</p><p>“So,” she said deliberately. “Why the kriff would you let a baby <em>jetii </em>go wandering the lower levels by himself?” He might not look a <em>jetii</em> but clones only followed one set of people around.</p><p>“He wasn’t by himself,” the clone said. He looked resentful.</p><p>“Oh sure,” Sha Chal said a little mockingly. “Because by the time I’d pulled a blaster on the <em>adiik</em> you’d certainly have been able to do something useful.”</p><p>The disapproving glance was now clearly directed at the kid who slunk further down in his seat. Sha Chal nudged the hot chocolate closer to him. Were the <em>jetii </em>unable to feed their children now?</p><p>“Miscommunication,” the clone said bluntly. “But you wanted to talk to us.”</p><p>Sha Chal hummed. “You,” <em>things, </em>she managed to omit, “travel in packs, don’t you? Where are the rest of your squad?”</p><p>The clone looked around the kaf-shop sardonically. “We’d all fit in here well, wouldn’t we?”</p><p><em>Point</em>, she conceded with a nod. She’d certainly be more comfortable to know how many of the identi-kit faces were hovering around outside. She flicked her eyes over the removed helmet and couldn’t see the blinking of a comm-light. That meant nothing though – he’d be a fool to have come in without some method of communication.</p><p>“Sha Chal,” she offered when the clone’s drink was finally delivered. The clone looked at her steadily.</p><p>“Seefer Gryffindor,” he offered back. “304<sup>th</sup>”. He didn’t give the kid’s name which- she wouldn’t have expected him to.</p><p>“That name recorded anywhere?” she asked and he snorted.</p><p>“We get numbers, not names,” he said and was that <em>bitterness</em> there? The kid nudged into him and the clo- Seefer tapped his knee briefly.</p><p>“Red and gold, hey,” she said. “Blue’s reliability,” she told the kid. She knocked a little on the sigil. “Also the colour of my clan. We hold to the old ways of Mandalore.” The smirk directed at Seefer was challenging, she knew. “Unlike <em>Fett</em>.”</p><p>“Fett’s dead,” Seefer said, uncaring.</p><p>“No fondness for the old man?”</p><p>“Why would there be?”</p><p>Sha Chal leant back on her chair. She stole one of the kid’s arti-chips to chew on. “You trying to tell me it was a coincidence your kid decided to follow me?”</p><p>Seefer knuckled at his kid’s hair who submitted to it with bad grace. Huh. She’d never seen that particular expression of bedraggled resignation on a <em>jetii’s </em>face before. There was a little smile tugging at the kid’s mouth though which said more than any protests would.</p><p>“Just about,” he said after a moment. “Look, we’re not here to cause trouble-”</p><p>“But there’s something you want,” Sha interrupted. She felt certain down to her <em>bones</em>. She didn’t know what <em>she </em>wanted from this but she could sense a potential opportunity.</p><p>“Maybe <em>I’m </em>curious,” he said. “The <em>gai bal manda </em>and the <em>Resol’nare</em> makes you Mandalorian. My brothers and I have,” and his face twisted a little, “A Mandalorian <em>buir</em>. If we swore to the <em>Resol’nare</em>, would that make us citizens?”</p><p><em>No, </em>Sha wanted to shout instinctively, revulsion rising. But-</p><p>“The Duchess does not allow us to follow the <em>Resol’nare</em>,” she breathed a little bitterly. “But even so – the documents? The legal standing? You’d need someone to stand <em>for </em>you, and you’ve already said Fett is dead.”</p><p>“Then what would it take to get someone?” he asked intently. The kid was following them with the same sharp eyes.</p><p>“I’m not in the habit of giving advice to strangers,” Sha said. She expected the spark of anger that came from that. The clone stood up with a nod though.</p><p>“If you ever decide to change that,” he said, “My number.” She took the piece of flimsi and looked at him.</p><p>“Maybe my advice doesn’t come cheap,” she said, testing.</p><p>“Maybe you should think what you want in return for your advice,” Seefer said back. She let them both go and thought over what had – and hadn’t – been said. A quick message to the rat-bastard Fel requested all the information he had on the 304<sup>th</sup>.</p><p>Her contact was efficient as he normally was and by the time she was back in her own room, stripping off the least flexible parts of her <em>beskar’gam</em> there were mission reports ready in her HUD. She collapsed onto her bed to read.</p><p>She couldn’t help her low whistle.</p><p>“Now <em>there’s</em> a casualty list,” Sha breathed, uncomfortable despite herself. The serial numbers had been recorded, filling page after page. <em>Christophsis, Christophsis </em>– then a few weeks without a death, a trail into <em>Eskilon-5 </em>handful of death and then- a massacre. Right at the top, before the remaining serial numbers was listed out ‘Jedi Master Pong Krell’ and then number after number. Her mind flickered back to those painted armour sets and to a younger Jango Fett’s eyes staring angrily at her. <em>Brothers</em>, he’d said. This was worse than the results of a blood-feud though.</p><p>But- Eskilon-5. Why was that name familiar? She closed her eyes, trying to filter through her memory. Had there been a mission out there recently? Njuts Qykaihl and his squad, perhaps. She didn’t think that they’d reported back in just yet.</p><p>Sha Chal tapped her fingers against her armour in thought. There was something wrong here, but she couldn’t figure out what exactly. She wasn’t due to send another message out for a week and there’d be no one around to receive it. Nonetheless…</p><p>She saved the clone – <em>Seefer’s</em> number to her comm unit. She might be Death Watch but she’d chosen her armour’s colours well before she’d joined up. Blue was for <em>reliability</em> and she could be as patient as she needed to be.</p>
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<a name="section0025"><h2>25. Chapter 25</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>In brief conclusion: work is a terrible thing, expect much more infrequent updates. :) I'm aiming for once every 2-3 days now.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“There are fifteen potential matches,” the Padawan said officiously. Her blue wings were almost blurring to keep her in the air and Harry eyed her a little carefully. “Of these, four of the systems are inhabitable by humans or human-hybrids – here, look,” she keyed in a few words and planets began to rotate slowly around the room.</p><p>“One of these systems is protected, with space travel not permitted, two are open, and one is restricted for danger.”</p><p>Harry squinted at them dubiously. He hadn’t been fantastic at astronomy. “Looks maybe like that?” he said, pointing at one of the systems, and the Padawan’s wings stilled for a second letting her dip in the air. She understood him clearly at least – Basic almost felt natural on his tongue by now, if not quite there.</p><p>“You said that your system was inhabited, yes?” she checked and Harry nodded firmly.</p><p>“A few billion,” he said a little vaguely. “Multiple governments.”</p><p>She hummed dubiously. “Well that system’s been abandoned,” she said. “It was one of the early human colonised planets but after a few too many disasters it was abandoned.” She buzzed in a little closer, confidingly. “The Jedi Order had to declare it off limits about six hundred years ago because there was a massive <em>Sith temple </em>there. It was a huge shame because the records indicate that this might have been one of the originators of the Jedi – but where there’s Light, there’s always Darkness.”</p><p>Harry looked at the rotating blue and green planet quietly. It was smudged, but he thought he could make the continents out. He didn’t know what to think. “Not populated?” he asked, and the Padawan shook her head sharply.</p><p>“Well, there might be a few hundred people there,” she corrected after a moment. “Cultists tend to find their way to the old Sith temples eventually. But the number that you’re saying? No, definitely not.”</p><p>“Oh,” Harry breathed. “Thank you.” He took an obedient look at the other systems but was forced to shake his head after a few moments of inspection. He circled back to the original set. It still looked <em>right</em> to him. “Are there – any records, from this one?”</p><p>“System Ear’kona?” She tapped a few things on her screen. “Nothing particularly legible,” she said. “We’ve got some old records that have been preserved but the language has been lost for a while. The system was abandoned well before the invention of holocrons – maybe fifty, sixty thousand years ago?”</p><p><em>Fifty or sixty thousand years? </em>Harry couldn’t even start to put that number into context.</p><p>“Can I see the records?” he asked. He mostly expected the sharp-eyed look he received and he met it with a shrug. “Supposed to do an individual research project. Early start to the Jedi might be interesting.”</p><p>The Padawan laughed. “Well, there’s a few pieces translated and written up – let me transfer those.” His datapad pinged barely a second later. “If you can read dead languages, you’re welcome to the rest of them – here, a couple of additions for inspiration.” The documents came sliding onto his datapad and he nodded gratefully. “I <em>won’t</em> be sharing any of the Sith records,” he was informed primly. “If you want <em>those</em>, you’ll have to come with the Council’s approval.”</p><p><em>And good luck getting that</em>, Harry had no problem with interpreting. He chose to smile gratefully and watch her exterior melt a little. Not for the first time, he was grateful that this wasn’t like Privet Drive – no one was whispering about the burden he was to his family, or even intrinsically suspicious of anything he might hover nearby.</p><p>The session ended shortly after, the senior Padawan fired up by her inability to find the exact system that he’d come from. Harry’s fingers twitched over the datapad but he couldn’t bring himself to look at it just then. There was an odd feeling of dread within him that didn’t dissipate as he made his way through lightsabre class (where he was working his way up to barely adequate at this point) and then through galactic politics (where he was definitely <em>not</em> working his way up to barely adequate).</p><p>He slipped into the infirmary to check on Teeks – Sen had been dismissed a few days previous with a heavy back brace and a warning not to exert himself. A quick check proved that Healer Mirr-tan Eshki wasn’t there to chase him out with dire warnings of younglings and over-exertion. He sat next to Teeks who’d been stilled into a healing coma. Those little bolts of electricity were still arcing their way through and Harry worked little trails around <em>whatever-it-was</em> that was lodged into his brain. He was pretty certain it didn’t belong there by now, but the healers hadn’t really listened to him. When he’d taken a look at Seefer and at ’49 they’d had the same <em>doesn’t-belong-there </em>but <em>always-been-there</em> feeling.</p><p>He tapped at it lightly and focused. If he <em>nudged</em> he thought that maybe there was something he could do – but what if he made it worse? His eyes fluttered a bit and he was about to sink deeper but- he jolted up. Mirr-tan was coming and he did <em>not</em> want more punishment duty.</p><p>“Sorry,” he whispered to Teeks. “I’ll figure it out, I promise.”</p><p>“We’ll need to treat them for space-shock,” Mirr-tan was saying sharply. “They were drifting without life support – and that’s <em>before</em> we even get into the trauma of losing the battalion. I want them back here as soon as you can ship them over.”</p><p><em>More dead</em>, Harry thought bitterly as he managed to get out without being spotted. Seemed a little like every time he heard news there were more clones dying. The way the Temple treated it though – they felt like <em>numbers</em> whereas the Jedi were <em>people</em>. He wondered what Hermione would have thought of it.</p><p>He could see the distinctive red-gold of one of the 304<sup>th</sup> demonstrating blaster forms in one of the main atriums, a Jedi matching him with <em>soresu </em>to a class of children. “Be <em>one </em>with the Force,” a chittering voice was saying, sounding like a thousand buzzing insects. Harry managed to supress a shudder. Dudley had shoved him into a wasp’s nest once and it sounded <em>just like that</em>.</p><p>The datapad still felt like it was burning in his (stupid, <em>ugly</em>) robes and Harry turned almost without thinking. He didn’t want to be in his room and no one would check for him until curfew now. He had a few hours.</p><p>The route to the barracks was second-nature by now. The only one who seemed to notice him was Vos who smirked as if he were doing something particularly funny – Vos had dragged him out on a few day-trips now, each one causing the 304<sup>th</sup> more and more frustration.</p><p>(“It is <em>not acceptable</em> to take children gambling with a <em>known pirate</em>,” Lucian had snarled on the last occasion. “Sir, <em>what the kriff were you thinking?”</em></p><p> “Perfectly normal for a Padawan,” Vos had breezed. “Did you ever hear about the time General Kenobi got left in the middle of a civil war when he was a baby Padawan?”</p><p>“<em>Sir!”</em></p><p>Vos was not popular with the 304<sup>th</sup>. Seefer was not allowed within a hundred metres of him, especially after Vos had asked about his <em>relationship </em>with the Mando woman they’d met the first time, wriggling his eyebrows like they were alive.)</p><p>Wurrra (his roommate who he still hadn’t worked out the gender of – or whether their species <em>had</em> a gender) seemed convinced that Vos was going to take him as a Padawan. Harry hoped not. He didn’t think he could heal the collective aneurysms that would occur in a decent amount of time.</p><p>The barracks were an ugly structure, the repurposing of several layers of what had been Jedi warehouses. The walls had been painted with what Harry was assured was a particularly soothing shade of mustard yellow and the whole place was roughly reminiscent of a well-meaning attempt to cheer up a morgue. None of the troopers he passed bothered to give him more than a vaguely bewildered glance any more and he held that as a particular triumph.</p><p>Sen was watching the Senate’s most recent debates when he entered the room, a sickeningly love-struck look on his face as he watched Senator Organa present on – Harry checked, the war finance act. ’49 had apparently given up on attempting to change the channel and was sulking as he cleaned up his armour. Ricks was checking through something that Harry had a nasty suspicion was his last set of homework. It didn’t look good for him.</p><p>“What exactly did you mean when you identified gardening as a key theme for the Naboo poet Erish Kameda?” he asked absentmindedly, not looking up. Harry froze.</p><p>“It’s about flowers!” he protested. It had definitely been about flowers. He was pretty sure they’d been red.</p><p>“And your read of the symbolism is that he likes gardening?”</p><p>“Yes,” Harry said indignantly. “Why would he bother writing about all the flowers otherwise?”</p><p>“Has a point,” Sketch said mildly. Ricks made a noise that could generously be interpreted as frustration.</p><p>“Research to do,” Harry said in rapid self-defence, holding the datapad up. “Sorry. We talk poetry later?”</p><p>“I <em>know </em>you have better grammar than that,” Ricks said warningly and Harry carefully pulled himself into one of the bunks and pretended not to hear. They were uncomfortable but still better than his bed in the cupboard. He didn’t bother to think wistfully of Hogwarts’ beds any more.</p><p>Careful pushes brought up the files that the Padawan had sent him. He was slow on a datapad but could at least navigate his way around. He skimmed through a few chapters – <em>the unified government, the ruling class (widely thought to be Force sensitive). </em>There was nothing interesting. He did a quick search for ‘Hogwarts’, then ‘Dumbledore’, and then a couple of other terms that came to mind. Nothing turned up. He moved to the next book.</p><p>
  <em>The cataclysm would prove the turning point for Midworld. It is unclear whether this was some form of natural disaster, tragic civil war, or perhaps a mix of the two but the ruins brought about what is commonly called the “Unified Government” and widely recognised as a golden age for Midworld.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>…the flourishing of not only the dominant human race, but additionally the sub-races of Huselfs and Goa-blens… Some records reference the need to guard against a treacherous enemy, the ‘Maggles’… Little is known of these beings but writings reference entanglement with the cause of the Cataclysm. It is unclear whether this might be some early form of propaganda…</em>
</p><p>No Hogwarts. No Dumbledore. No one he recognised. There was a sick feeling of disappointment. Someone pulled up in the bunk beside him and he didn’t bother to speak as he tucked himself into Seefer’s side. He’d thought… He pressed through to the last of what had been sent to him and paused. That wasn’t Aurebesh. It – it wasn’t <em>quite </em>English either, but the script – he <em>recognised </em>that.</p><p>He pressed through the scanned pages slowly. There were words that he recognised jumping out at him. <em>Ministry</em>. <em>Duty of the Blessed</em>. <em>Children of the Force</em>. There was plenty he didn’t recognise too, but…</p><p>He switched the search function to script. The English letters were unfamiliar to his fingers but he traced them out anyway. <em>Hogwarts</em>.</p><p><em>Hogwarts </em>something<em> true Temple, corrupted by – </em>and more words that he couldn’t recognise. Harry swallowed slowly. <em>Dumbledore</em> came up with nothing and he went back to <em>Hogwarts</em>. <em>Resting place </em>something<em> Great Sage</em> something <em>Dum Bel Dore. Oh</em>, he thought a little blankly. He moved forward a page. <em>Seeds of destruction</em> it read<em> sown by the Muggles</em>. <em>Turned against</em> something. <em>Dark Lord Vol Damoor defeated</em> something <em>Elder Sabre</em>. <em>In victory Master Gren Delward was betrayed</em>…</p><p>“Harry?” Seefer murmured and Harry shook his head. He pressed forward again.</p><p><em>Dark apprentices… Hermes Grain-ger, Lu Nalove Good, Deen Tomas </em>something <em>cataclysm. </em>Something <em>destroyed</em>. <em>Hogwarts ruined. Gren Delward took up his sabre once more and founded an Order to protect against…</em></p><p><em>Hermes Grain-ger</em> Harry thought. Hermione? He didn’t recognise the second name, but the third – Dean? He thought of the well-meaning boy who’d drawn him a roaring lion for his first game. He thought of Hermione – after the troll, hugging him before the fire, and then again from his dreams, worn and crying. He <em>didn’t understand</em>.</p><p>He put the datapad down and looked at Seefer. Seefer looked back in concern. “You don’t look good, kid,” he said softly. Harry swallowed.</p><p>“Sith are bad, right?” he asked and Seefer went still.</p><p>“Why are you asking?”</p><p>“I just,” Harry said. “Hermione would <em>never</em>,” and he raised the datapad. “They say she <em>destroyed </em>Hogwarts, but she wouldn’t, she loved it the same way I did.”</p><p>Cricket picked up the datapad and flicked through it. He couldn’t read the writing, but he brushed back into the previous books. He took a few seconds to skim them and then to check the titles.</p><p>“You could read that script?” he asked mildly. Harry nodded jerkily and then paused to wiggle his hand from side to side.</p><p>“Some of it,” he said. “Enough of it.”</p><p>“Read what?” Seefer demanded.</p><p>“Remember Vol Damoor?” Cricket said and Seefer’s eyes narrowed.</p><p>“You said that was ancient,” he said suspiciously.</p><p>“Yeah,” Cricket admitted. “Ten thousand years before the Galactic City was founded – which was about eighty, ninety thousand years ago itself.”</p><p>Harry couldn’t help the little noise that came out at that.</p><p>“What are you trying to say?” Seefer said.</p><p>“These records – they’re a dead language,” Cricket said and Harry shook his head a little.</p><p>“Bit like English,” he said. “Not exactly – but close.”</p><p>Seefer was brushing a hand through his hair and Harry leaned into it. It couldn’t be right, but- the Force felt sad around him. “It’s wrong,” he said flatly. “Everything they’ve got written down there, it’s wrong. Hermione – she wouldn’t have. Dean wouldn’t either.”</p><p>“Your batchmates?” ’49 said cautiously.</p><p>“Things can get changed over time,” Cricket said soothingly.</p><p>“This is <em>crazy</em>,” ’02 said.</p><p>Harry realised numbly that his hands were trembling. “They <em>wouldn’t,” </em>he insisted. “If the Jedi came from an Order against them, then the <em>Jedi</em> are wrong.”</p><p>“Harry,” Seefer was saying, “Harry, we’ve got you.” It wasn’t just his hands trembling. The bunks were too. “Shh,” Seefer was saying and Harry scrunched his eyes up and tried not to cry. He was <em>so tired</em> of this. He wanted to <em>go back to Hogwarts</em> where no one died and he understood what was going on and- and-</p><p>He buried his head in Seefer’s chest and breathed.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0026"><h2>26. Chapter 26</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry was asleep now, tear tracks still faintly visible. The remainder of the 304<sup>th</sup> were gathered round, Teeks the only one missing.</p><p>“Kriffing time travel,” ’02 continued to mutter. “I feel like I’m in some kind of holonovel.” ’03 elbowed him hard.</p><p>“Just to check,” Teejay said casually, only the way his hands were shuffling a pack of cards displaying his nerves. “I wasn’t the only one that heard the Commander call out the Jedi there, was I?”</p><p>Sen made a quiet noise but didn’t put a stop to the conversation. Lucian moved his jaw a little. Seefer watched his commanding officers thoughtfully. They were with the 304<sup>th</sup>, he’d known that… but trying to imagine this conversation with Wolffe made him appreciate them more.</p><p>“Sounded unhappy,” Ricochet confirmed. He didn’t sound happy himself.</p><p>“A hundred thousand years ago?” ’02 tried. “Like, lots of things can happen in that time. I barely believe the news from last <em>week</em>.”</p><p>“’02 has a point,” Ricks said. “We don’t know the bias of these. It’s easy for it to be a misinterpretation.”</p><p>“A <em>hundred thousand years</em>,” ’02 whispered and then yelped as ’03 put him into a headlock. Sketch hissed them quiet, gesturing to Harry, asleep.</p><p>“What reason does he have to be fond of the Jedi?” Seefer asked a little rhetorically. “He’s here for the same reason as us – nowhere else to go.”</p><p>“It’s possible to leave the Order,” Cricket said and Seefer snorted.</p><p>“And go <em>where</em>?” he asked. “And also – you really think the Jedi are going to let a Force-sensitive walk away when they’ve got Sith running around?”</p><p>There were uncomfortable shuffles at that. Lucian sighed heavily but didn’t add anything to that.</p><p>“They’ve got to,” ’49 finally said. “He’s – he’s nat-born, they can’t keep him against his will.”</p><p><em>He’s not like us, </em>Seefer finished silently for him. <em>He doesn’t belong to the Republic</em>.</p><p>Ricks hummed a little and that drew everyone’s attention. He was the best with all the analysis. “Jedi are conscripts too,” he offered after a moment and waited for the shock to pass through them all.</p><p>“They’re the <em>Generals</em>,” Scramble whispered, sounding aghast. <em>Still just a shiny, </em>Seefer thought a little uncharitably.</p><p>“And they didn’t want this war,” Ricks said. “There’s records of it – they didn’t want the war and they didn’t want command of the armies. They accepted it as their <em>duty</em> though.”</p><p>“Wait, wait,” Seefer said. He was startled enough to pull that to a stop. “What do you mean they didn’t want this war? We were <em>created</em> for the Jedi years before the war even started.”</p><p>“What are you trying to say here?” Sen asked. He didn’t sound aggressive.</p><p>“I would have thought it’s pretty obvious,” Seefer said. He couldn’t stop the little incredulous grin that was dancing around his mouth. “C’mon, you can’t say it didn’t occur to you.” He spread his hands wide. “Who creates an army without a war to fight? We’re way too expensive for that.”</p><p>“One of the Jedi had a vision,” Sen said, then paused. “Or so the senate records say.” His mouth twisted a little.</p><p>“The Jedi aren’t <em>bad</em>,” Scramble protested. “You’ve seen them, they’re stuck in this like us.”</p><p>“Maybe,” Seefer shrugged. Maybe the rank and file didn’t want it. A <em>vision</em> let someone find enough money to create millions of clones – and no one noticed the money missing? Who were they trying to fool? “But if they’re stuck in this like us…” he trailed off meaningfully.</p><p>“Cadets don’t get to walk away,” Ricochet finished for him.</p><p>“Are we- are we sure that the Commander <em>wants</em> to leave?” ’49 asked. “I mean, I know he doesn’t care much about the Temple but…”</p><p>Teejay was shuffling his cards faster and faster. “I thought that maybe General Koon was an option,” he said. “He wasn’t bad for a Jedi.”</p><p>“The 104<sup>th</sup> are done,” Cricket corrected. “Three survivors. And the General. Going to take a while before he’s active duty after that.”</p><p>“<em>Kriff</em>,” someone breathed, and Seefer wasn’t sure who. He agreed though.</p><p>“Vos,” Teejay said. The grimaces that went around were shared.</p><p>“He’s not <em>too</em> bad,” Scramble tried after a moment. “He doesn’t mind the Commander going his own way for the most part.”</p><p>“You want to take bets on how long Harry’ll last with him?” Seefer asked. “This is the guy that thinks it was normal for his batchmate to be abandoned weaponless in a civil war when he was Harry’s age.”</p><p>“<em>Pirates</em>,” Lucian agreed darkly.</p><p>They all fell silent, thinking. It was finally Sen who spoke up.</p><p>“We’ve not got many options,” he said. “Even <em>if </em>the Commander was allowed to leave, we’d hardly be permitted to go with him. That’s a court martial.”</p><p>“Staying doesn’t keep us with him,” Sketch said, crossing his arms. He stopped there until Ricochet nudged him to continue. “Jedi. Attachments,” he said. “This is an <em>exception </em>because,” he waved his hand a little. “Trauma. Not long term.”</p><p>“Crechemasters don’t want us too near the kids in case they get attached,” Cricket said a bit wryly. “So yeah, I can see that they wouldn’t want this lasting.”</p><p>Seefer was aware that his teeth were bared. They were <em>not</em> taking his kid. He didn’t care what their precious creed said. He hadn’t signed up to it and neither had Harry.</p><p>“Him leaving by himself ends with him in foster care,” Sen continued, pretending not to notice Seefer. “Which isn’t <em>necessarily</em> bad but…”</p><p>“Leaves him in foster care with a <em>Sith Lord trying to kill him</em>,” Seefer hissed.</p><p>“Yes,” Sen conceded. “That.”</p><p>“Well,” Ricochet said. “My vote is we find some Outer Rim planet and take up farming. There has to be at least one out there that’s worth a visit.”</p><p>’02 let out a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob.</p><p>Sen let his fingers tap. “Hear anything from your Mando?” he asked Seefer abruptly and Seefer blinked.</p><p>“She wanted to know what happened on Eskilon-5,” he offered cautiously. “Hadn’t settled on what appropriate exchange would be and she went quiet a day or two ago.” Sha Chal had seemed oddly intense about Eskilon-5 but Seefer wasn’t damn fool enough to go giving away military secrets without good return.</p><p>Sen sighed a little. He shifted and grimaced as the move pulled at his back brace. “Talk to her,” he said after a moment. “Ask about ways,” he paused and then finished off determinedly, “Ways groups can disappear.”</p><p>“Yes <em>sir</em>,” Seefer said in low satisfaction.</p><p>“Cricket,” Sen continued. “Is General Koon back in the Temple?”</p><p>“Incoming,” Cricket said. “Two to three days maybe.”</p><p>Sen nodded, calculating. “And he’ll be grounded for a while after that. Not necessarily a bad idea for the Commander to pretend he might be interested in the Padawan thing when the General recovers – it’ll keep him in Coruscant for a time while we figure this out.”</p><p>“We can’t be abandoning our brothers,” Scramble said, his face coated in distress. Teejay pulled him into a loose hug. No one else answered him. Seefer didn’t see how lining up to die was going to help his other brothers. “The Commander might not even have <em>meant</em> what he said.”</p><p>Sketch raised a hand. “Sith,” he said, face intent.</p><p>“Lot of planets to get lost on,” Sen said back. “Even a Sith can’t search them all.”</p><p>Seefer pulled his comm unit out while the debate continued. <em>Jahee’s? </em>he messaged Sha Chal. He got a response gratifyingly quickly. <em>Tomorrow PM. </em>Had something changed? She hadn’t been quite so responsive before.</p><p><em>7, </em>he offered. His shifts would be done then and the 304<sup>th</sup> would cover for him however he needed them to. The confirmation was expected, and he moved to pull out Harry’s datapad. He might not be able to read the originals but… if this was where his kid came from, he might as well understand the history.</p><p>“Share ‘em when you’re done,” Ricks muttered and turned back to the group conversation.</p><p>…</p><p>Sha Chal wasn’t a nervous person. She didn’t fidget, she didn’t twitch. Intell work took steady hands. There was something though… She glared at Jahee until he sped up her kaf and span the cup in her hands after taking a long slurp.</p><p>Njuts Qykaihl had landed on Eskilon-5 a week and a half ago. They hadn’t reported back in. Their ship’s tracker had reported leaving Eskilon-5 well before their scheduled departure and they’d landed at the chapter on Concord Dawn – and from there, nothing. Complete black out. Her report had been submitted without any orders issued in return and she was sat here wondering – wondering if it was in her mind or if something was <em>wrong</em>. It wasn’t <em>uncommon</em> not to get a response over the comms to reduce the risk of two-way traffic being spotted. Nonetheless, it was inconvenient that this was happening when her mind had decided to spin a mouse into a mythosaur.</p><p>The clone – <em>Seefer</em>, she reminded herself sternly, she needed something from him – slid into the seat across from her. He wasn’t even pretending at being incognito, but she supposed with his face he couldn’t.</p><p>“Mando,” he greeted.</p><p>“Clone,” she nodded back and managed to fight back the self-chastising face she wanted to pull. Playing nice had started off well then.</p><p>He studied her carefully. “I want to make a group <em>go missing</em>.”</p><p>“<em>Go missing </em>dead, or <em>go missing</em> to other exciting parts of the galaxy?” Sha asked carefully.</p><p>“The latter,” he said and Sha couldn’t stop the snort that came.</p><p>“See you’re just about as loyal as the Mand’alor ever was,” she said mockingly. “So quick to abandon your masters?”</p><p>“Don’t see why I owe the <em>jetii </em>my loyalty,” Seefer said steadily, apparently unphased by the accusation. “My loyalty’s with my <em>traat’aliit</em> and with my <em>ad</em>. I would have thought even you would understand that.”</p><p> “Even me?” Sha asked.</p><p>“No squad,” Seefer shrugged at her. “No one want to fight with you?”</p><p>Sha Chal had to take a long few breaths and was gratified to see that the clone at least looked chagrined too. “Playing nice?” she smiled with her teeth bared and he huffed a laugh.</p><p>“Something like that,” he said.</p><p>“Go missing,” she said, thinking it through now. “How many we talking?”</p><p>“Twenty.” He went still and a little twitch ran through him. “Maybe nineteen,” he admitted reluctantly.</p><p>“Tricky,” Sha said. “It’s not like anyone can miss who you are.” If they got some armour that wasn’t so blatantly <em>republic </em>though… there were enough people out there who kept their faces private. It wasn’t <em>impossible</em>.</p><p>“When by?”</p><p>“We can flex,” Seefer said and she stared at that face. What had prompted this, she wanted to ask – but no, now wasn’t the time.</p><p>“I can’t promise I can get you out,” she said flatly. “I can promise you information on it and…” she weighed it up. “Let’s say ten new identities.”</p><p>“All,” he corrected immediately, as she knew he would. “Plus introductions and recommendations.”</p><p>She dickered a bit but conceded, more interested in the information she was now close to getting. The agreement was sealed the Mando way. <em>Honour and vengeance</em> she thought again, looking at his armour. He saw her watching.</p><p>“Got painted because of Eskilon-5,” he said, tapped his pauldron lightly.</p><p>“The 304<sup>th</sup> died there,” she said and he nodded.</p><p>“My <em>vod’e</em>.” He looked like he was trying to find the right words. “It was – Sith.”</p><p>Sha Chal felt her eyebrow rising despite herself. “Singular or plural?” she asked and the breath that he let out sounded nothing like a laugh.</p><p>“Singular. One man. Took out the entire 304<sup>th</sup> and the <em>jetii </em>beside it.” He shrugged. “From the looks of it, it hadn’t even been a fight for him. We came back and the bodies were just- were just piled up.”</p><p>Sha tried to process that. Even if the clones weren’t as good as a true Mando, she’d seen examples of their marksmanship. All of them <em>and </em>a Jedi, without it being difficult. “Start from the beginning,” she ordered. “In detail.”</p><p>The clone filled his side of the bargain even as Sha peppered him with questions. She couldn’t stop the gaping feeling opening up inside of her. “You didn’t find him?” she asked intently. “No signs?”</p><p>“None,” he confirmed. “We crippled the ships so he shouldn’t have been able to get off the moon – flagged it with a no-land marker on the nav-channels.”</p><p>“Some people might see a no-land as a challenge,” Sha said rhetorically and Seefer stared at her before closing his eyes for a second.</p><p>“Someone you know landed there,” he said and it was a statement, not a question.</p><p>“Still alive, as far as I can tell,” Sha confirmed. “The ship recognised their bio-signal – plus one other.” She looked at him. “They landed on Concord Dawn and now no one’s taking my comms.”</p><p>Seefer was swearing now under his breath. “Wouldn’t hold out hope they’re still alive,” he said and she resisted the temptation to punch him in the face. “<em>Kriff</em>, the <em>jetii </em>need to be told about this.”</p><p>Sha’s lip curled. “The <em>jetii </em>aren’t welcome in our space,” she snapped. “Not after what they’ve done.” She met his stare. “What, don’t you want your vengeance yourself?” She nodded to his armour and the man looked horribly tempted for a moment.</p><p>“I want what you agreed to provide,” he said instead. “You going to provide it?”</p><p>“I don’t break oath,” Sha said stiffly. “It’ll be done.” It would have to be done in between her alerts out to the other chapters but she hadn’t failed her word since she was a child. She had no interest in repainting her armour.</p><p>She stood to leave and paused. “You change your mind about that vengeance,” she said shortly. “Get in touch. Maybe we can talk about that citizenship then.”</p><p>“Maybe,” the clone replied and Sha memorised the sharp focus on his face, like a hunting strill.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Several weeks previous:</p><p>Voldemort stared at the spaceship's control panel. It was mocking him, he knew it. Why hadn't he left one of those muggle pet soldiers alive? Even the <i>manual</i> wasn't written in any kind of sensible language!</p><p>He sat down in the cockpit and prepared for a long wait. <i>Haste will be your downfall</i> Dumbledore had told him once. How <i>grating</i>.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0027"><h2>27. Chapter 27</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Quick short one here! :) Might help clarify a few of the questions from the last chapter - or not!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Ron was shouting. The voice was familiar, even if it was deeper and angrier than Harry had ever heard before.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You can’t speak to our soldiers like that Hermione!” he was snapping. “They deserve better than you-“ he looked to be struggling for words.</em>
</p><p><em>“I can’t speak to them like what?” Hermione demanded tightly. “You heard what they said, you can’t be saying that that was </em>acceptable<em>.”</em></p><p>
  <em>Harry shuffled a little. They were in a room he didn’t recognise, but it looked something like the sabre training halls in the temple with targets set up at the back. Hermione and Ron were too occupied to notice him and he watched in silence, unable to bring himself to interrupt.</em>
</p><p><em>“You’re – you’re acting like you don’t support the people who are out there fighting and dying for us,” Ron snarled. “All tucked away safely, little Miss Ethics – You-Know-Who is killing our nation! Grindelwald is the only one who’s </em>stopping <em>him.”</em></p><p><em>“Of course I want Voldemort dead!” Hermione cried back. “But I don’t think it’s okay to start talking about subjugating muggles out of </em>expediency<em>! Grindelwald’s not exactly a beacon of light himself!”</em></p><p>
  <em>“Are you a witch or not?!” Ron shouted. “Because right now, you’re acting like you never should have got a Hogwarts’ letter!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“How dare you!” Hermione shrieked. “You – you might as well be on his side with that kind of talk!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You’re a disgrace!” Ron shouted over his shoulder, storming out. “My brothers haven’t died for this!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Your brothers-!” Hermione started, but was cut off by the slamming of the door. “Your brothers were better men than you,” she finished in a low, heartbroken voice. She took a few steps after him and looked as if she wanted to cry. Harry didn’t like how broken she looked every time he saw her now.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“That was unpleasant,” Harry said, frowning after Ron, and Hermione yelped.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Oh,” she said, placing a hand to her heart. “Oh Merlin, you surprised me.” She paused and then in a different voice. “Harry.”</em>
</p><p><em>“You’re older than when I last saw you,” Harry said, frowning up at her. Older and much taller than him. That was unfair. She’d grown out of much of her young awkwardness and Harry squinted at her a little suspiciously. Was this just a guilty dream, prompted by his reading? There was something reassuring about seeing her though, as if someone had chosen to re-emphasise that no, Hermione would </em>never<em>.</em></p><p>
  <em>Hermione looked at him with a wavering smile. “Well,” she said. “It has been a few years since then. You remember that?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Why wouldn’t I?” Harry asked, and then shook his head. “What you and Ron were talking about - Grindelwald’s a dark lord then?” he asked, and Hermione sighed.</em>
</p><p><em>“Oh </em>Harry<em>,” she said. “Of course he was – you should really know this, it’s basic knowledge.” She shook her head. “He was a dark lord during the World Wars – he preached that wizards should rule the world, including over muggles, so they could rule for the greater good. Dumbledore defeated him and he was imprisoned in Nurmengard.” She pursed her lips. “Before the various ministries, in their infinite wisdom, decided that we needed everyone available to defeat him.”</em></p><p>
  <em>“That doesn’t sound very sensible,” Harry said dubiously and Hermione shrugged.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It doesn’t seem like there’s been any sensible thinking since the Headmaster died,” she sighed. “Everyone’s just so frightened all the time. And now he comes in, and he’s so charismatic, and he's grieving over Dumbledore, and he keeps on making noise about how Voldemort’s going to make the muggles notice us and we should do something about it. Something more permanent than the statute of secrecy.” She blinked away tears. “They don’t see that they’re just doing the same thing Voldemort wants to – they talk about muggles like they’re some sort of… like they’re not human.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>That struck a note and Harry thought of the way people shied away from the 304<sup>th</sup> when they were outside of the Jedi temple. Like they weren’t real, like there was something wrong with them.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“People are people,” Harry said mulishly. “Why should it matter how they’re born?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You don’t think magic matters?” Hermione asked, oddly intent. The tears had dried up. Harry glowered at her.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Being able to levitate something doesn’t make you better than anyone else,” he said firmly. He thought of Master Krell’s dismissiveness of clones’ lives because they weren’t Jedi. He might have died for Harry but that didn’t make him right. “Just because someone can’t… wave a hand and heal people, doesn’t mean that they can’t think and feel.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hermione laughed a little. She sounded choked. “But no one else sees this,” she whispered. “He just talks about muggles as if they’re cattle, like their lives don’t even matter and- I just feel so alone.” She buried her face in her hands. “I’m hallucinating my dead best friend to agree with me,” she said in a muffled voice. “Maybe Ron was right.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Harry crossed his arms. “I’m not a hallucination,” he informed her sternly. In the face of her distress, his own whirling thoughts seemed to settle. “And alone – really?” He thought of the book. “What about Dean? You think he doesn’t feel the same way? Or the other muggleborns.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I,” Hermione said slowly. Harry could see the moment where her brain kicked in and began to calculate. “The other muggleborns,” she agreed. “Yes, they can’t all agree with what these people are saying. Perhaps a campaign – Society for the Protection of Unmagical People? SPUD.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes!” Harry said. “But, er- the name might need a bit of work.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hermione pulled a piece of paper towards her. “You’re certainly my most useful hallucination,” she said. “Now… Society for the Protection of Everyone’s Welfare? …No, it shouldn’t be about protection, we want equality. Society for the Integration of the Totality of Humanity?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Harry left her to it, the feeling of slipping away into strands of magic almost welcome. </em>
</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0028"><h2>28. Chapter 28</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>In which there's even more talking. :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>All these thousands of databooks and not one of them was useful, Harry thought. He breathed out rather than let frustration build in him. He’d heard far too many lectures on emotional control and attachment to welcome another one and it felt like there was always <em>someone</em> around to notice a lack of control.</p><p>He’d wanted to be around the 304<sup>th</sup> but it seemed like they were all busy today. Seefer had been distracted over the past couple of days which – didn’t hurt precisely, because Harry knew he was busy, but left him feeling a bit at loose ends. Sen had sat down with him to talk in vague terms and Harry still wasn’t sure what the point of the conversation was, or the conclusion. <em>Yes</em>, he wanted to stay with the 304<sup>th</sup>, he’d thought he’d made that clear. The Jedi… they were fine but it wasn’t – he hadn’t been able to find the words for it, not in any language. The squad was <em>his</em> and he was theirs, whereas the Jedi were – teachers, he guessed, and teachers never really listened.</p><p>Sen had listened and nodded seriously and pulled him into a rough hug at the end which was nice, Harry guessed. He liked how the troopers always made a point to touch him and the congratulations that came when he’d done well – although sometimes when he was sat in the Initiative classes, as he’d been requested to, it felt like there was nothing he could do well. There were politics classes that he didn’t understand and piloting classes which he was at least improving in and lightsabre classes where he still wanted to throw spells instead of wave a sword around… and that was without all the <em>cultural </em>pieces. Some of the initiatives had taken to openly wondering why a Master would choose him for a Padawan in the first place and Harry had been tempted to pull a Malfoy and keep them hopping in a leg-locker curse for the rest of the day. He hadn’t, which he thought demonstrated his emotional control admirably.</p><p>He could fire a blaster well though, and his hand-to-hand was improving especially now that his eyes had been fixed (which was <em>so cool)</em>. His battlefield tactics were pretty good too, but that was because Lucian sat him down near every night to drill him on scenarios and how to behave. The whole sensing danger thing was useful and he could almost always <em>dodge</em> an attack in the lightsabre classes even if he hadn’t really worked out how to turn that to using the sabre in attack. He tried to keep up with the spells he remembered, although his wand was starting to feel increasingly uncomfortable in his hand. When he’d tried to transfigure a rodent he’d found in the lower levels it felt like the Force <em>yelped</em> and he’d hastily dropped that. Transfiguration didn’t really feel <em>right</em> any more although he could get things to reshape themselves – it felt like there was a resistance to changing their material.</p><p>It all just – it was overwhelming, without even thinking <em>one hundred thousand years</em>. How were there <em>any</em> records of so long ago? A hundred thousand years meant that everything he’d ever known was not only likely dead but crumbled to pieces. The pyramids had been five thousand years old. What were the chances of Hogwarts lasting twenty times that long? He didn’t think much of it and that almost hurt more than thinking of <em>Ron </em>and <em>Hermione </em>and <em>Hagrid</em>.</p><p>He flicked his finger down the text desultorily, letting the words scroll past him. More information on the Jedi Order. Founded to bring <em>order</em> in the place of Sith’s <em>chaos</em>, to bring <em>balance</em>. They were peacekeepers, mainly – Harry had done his reading and the missions they went on were negotiations, rebuilding, helping people. They didn’t sound wrong, as such, and the people around the Temple felt more like monks than anything. They had still counted Krell among their number though, and as much as Krell had been willing to fight to save Harry’s life Harry could still remember the possession in his voice when he’d talked to Harry – <em>my Padawan, my Apprentice</em>. He still remembered the contempt of the clones.</p><p>He let his eyes drift over the words a little blankly and then paused. There was something written there that was - odd. He stopped the scrolling words and flicked them back up a few paragraphs. <em>Around twenty thousand active Jedi, not including the Service Corps</em> the text read. <em>Service Corps membership amounts to a further two hundred and fifty thousand Force Users. </em>Harry frowned. Two hundred and seventy thousand Force Users… but how many people were there on Coruscant? A few swipes came up with an answer of one trillion which… Harry had to process for a few seconds, feeling infinitesimally small.</p><p>There was something very wrong about that though. Britain had had a population of… around fifty, sixty million maybe? And there’d been about six thousand wizards. That meant – he used the calculator on the datapad quickly. That meant that around one in every ten thousand people was a magic user, and that was without counting the centaurs and the mer-people and the goblins all of whom were innately magical. Even if Harry pretended that Coruscant was the <em>only</em> populated planet in the galaxy, one in ten thousand people would be a hundred <em>million</em> magic users or Force users or whatever it was.</p><p>“You seem to be thinking very hard there, Padawan,” a rumbly voice said, and Harry looked up still frowning. He let it slip a little at the sight of Plo Koon. The Kel Dor had arrived back in the Temple a few days previous with the- the three surviving members of the 104<sup>th</sup>, Commander Wolffe among them. The troopers had looked wrecked and the Jedi Master could fool a passive observer with serenity, but there was a deep lake of well-managed grief beneath the unhealthy pale amber of his skin.</p><p>“Yes,” Harry responded after a moment. Sen had told him to play nice for a while but he thought he would have, even if he hadn’t been asked to. The grief made Master Koon seem somehow more relatable and Harry couldn’t have stopped himself from softening if he’d tried. “I’m looking at the number of Jedi.”</p><p>“Your Basic has improved greatly,” Master Koon said and Harry shrugged a little awkwardly.</p><p>“Still too much Mando’a, Master Windu says.” Which was irritating, because how was he supposed to know which words belonged with which language?</p><p>“Nonetheless, you should be commended for your quick uptake,” Master Koon said. His voice was firm on that. “What makes you think about our numbers?”</p><p>Harry poked at the datapad thoughtfully. “Why are there so few Jedi?” he asked and Master Koon sighed.</p><p>“These Wars are taking their toll already,” he rumbled and there was a note that said he was thinking of the troopers.</p><p>“So there’s only twenty thousand now – how many did there use to be?”</p><p>Plo Koon seemed a little taken aback. “There were twenty thousand – now, perhaps eighteen thousand of us. You think that number is small, Padawan?”</p><p>Harry paused. He felt like he was on a precipice here. Master Koon was a Jedi – but maybe not in the same way that Master Krell had been. “That’s – less than one in fifty million,” he said finally. “Yes, that seems small.”</p><p>“Was it different among your people?” The question was gentle, but probing nonetheless. Harry breathed in through his nose and thought.</p><p>“Yes,” he said finally. He looked up at Master Koon. “But the attachment principle means – you don’t have families?”</p><p>Master Koon sighed and pulled out a chair. “It is a tricky topic,” he acknowledged. “The most common reading of the Code does mean that families are discouraged. Attachment can lead to prioritising others over your duty to the whole. Nonetheless, attachment is a natural state for most species – it is how to <em>manage </em>it that matters. You must not allow your attachment to others to lead to fear for them. You must trust in the Force and the rightness of the universe.”</p><p>Harry looked at him. “So you didn’t fear for the 104<sup>th</sup>?” he asked, and he thought he could see Plo Koon’s eyes flutter shut underneath the coverings.</p><p>“I did,” he said. “But I was able to manage it and to drive it into positive emotions – to lead it into determination, rather than anger. And when there was nothing I could do for them, I grieved but I did not let that be hatred for those who killed them. Jedi must be guardians of their emotions. It is too easy for us, in darker moments, to harm those around us unintentionally.”</p><p>“But you don’t trust people to do that naturally,” Harry said. “So… discourage attachments, discourage families.”</p><p>“Every day,” Plo Koon said thoughtfully, “There are air accidents in Coruscant. Perhaps a hundred deaths a day – it is a large planet with a large population.”</p><p>Harry waited.</p><p>“A being is in an accident – her partner, in the next seat over, is killed, let us say. The other pilot was distracted. Is she angry?”</p><p><em>Your parents were drunk</em>, Aunt Petunia said. <em>They got themselves killed in a car accident. Wastrels</em>. And sometimes, when he’d been younger, he’d resented them for that.</p><p>“Yes,” Harry shrugged.</p><p>“But there are officers there and she is limited in what she can do. Perhaps she can claw the offender. Perhaps she has a blaster and she can shoot him. There are many things that can happen, but on the whole the damage would be limited.”</p><p>Harry looked at him.</p><p>“You are young still, Padawan,” Master Koon said. “You’ve lifted a speeder, haven’t you?”</p><p>“Yes,” Harry said slowly. “And thrown droids around and-” he shrugged.</p><p>“Most Jedi, if pushed, could throw a few speeders around,” Master Koon said. “Or even crush them if needed. Place an out of control Jedi in the centre of a city and they could harm <em>many</em> people. When Force Users are out of control, often another Force User is required to bring them down – because your average officer can<em>not</em>.”</p><p>Harry thought of Voldemort and the clones, and swallowed.</p><p>“So it is a risk,” Master Koon continued. “You risk that in that instance when a person you care for is hurt that you will be able to control yourself <em>completely</em> – or you risk that you will harm many innocents around you.” He looked at Harry steadily. “Is that fair to the people around you?”</p><p>“But,” Harry said. He thought it through. “My people had the same concerns as you,” he said, “But my parents were married and they had me. My friend was one of seven children – all of them were Force users, and his parents, and probably his parents’ parents too. And – there were bad things that happened but not <em>often</em>.” He tried to think of examples. “There were aurors to stop people from getting out of control and most people just need time to think about it anyway – the anger’s just an immediate reaction, it stops.”</p><p>“The Dark Side compounds,” Master Koon said seriously. “Use the Force when you are angry and you lose your reason, you move into hatred. It is – very difficult, if not impossible, to come back once you have Fallen.”</p><p>“None of my teachers ever said that,” Harry said blankly. “I mean, there’s Dark,” and he didn’t like having to use the word Force here, because it was <em>magic, </em>but- “Dark Force that’s illegal, but.” He searched for the words. “People get locked up for it, but they get let out again so that means that it’s something that you can stop doing. Because you wouldn’t let people out of prison if they were <em>still</em> Dark.”</p><p>Master Koon’s rebreather was hissing in the silence that fell between them. “Your Temple sounds very different to ours,” he said after a moment and Harry laughed.</p><p>“It’s gone now though,” he said. “<em>Long</em> gone.”</p><p>Master Koon looked at him and for a second Harry imagined he could see the way the Force nudged at him, like it was whispering paths into his ears. Was that what it was like for the Jedi when they listened?</p><p>“I see,” Master Koon was saying heavily. “I am sorry to hear that, Padawan.” He didn’t push further and Harry was glad for it – he wasn’t sure what he’d have ended up saying. He felt sick that he’d said as much as he had; Sen had told him to <em>play nice</em> but that probably hadn’t meant <em>tell them everything</em>, and the last Jedi he’d told everything had been- had been- Was there something nudging at <em>him</em> now, because it felt like when Hermione was pushing him about his homework and for a second he thought she was there with him, a hand on his shoulder-</p><p>“I think Krell was going to Fall,” Harry said abruptly. The words sounded distant in his own ears. “Voldemort used him as a pathway out – but Krell was always talking about ‘forging a new way’. Voldemort was going to keep him as a Death Eater, but he wanted to kill me and Krell wanted to keep me as an Apprentice so Voldemort killed him. Krell hated clones.” He looked at Master Koon. “He thought they were unnatural. An abomination against the Force.”</p><p>Plo Koon was very still.</p><p>“And – the Jedi don’t make sense,” Harry said. “You talk about <em>order</em> but order isn’t – it’s not good by itself. The clones might not be <em>order</em> but they’re still people and sometimes it feels like not even the Jedi realise this. You’re grieving them but you still used them. Did they have a real choice to be there?” He scowled at Master Koon. “<em>And </em>you kept the Philosopher’s Stone which is evil, and even if the Jedi don’t use it Voldemort’s going to come for it.”</p><p>“Is it not better that he comes for it in a place surrounded by Jedi who can stop him?” Master Koon asked. His hands were folded in the sleeves of his robes. He didn’t address the point around clones.</p><p>“Jedi and children?” Harry asked pointedly.</p><p>Master Koon sighed. “You bring up no points that we have not had raised against our order before,” he said heavily. “And you have not had an easy introduction to our ways. I hope we have not made you feel as though you are trapped here.”</p><p>Harry couldn’t stop the guilt that rose up in him at that. “It’s not,” he flailed a little. “I’m just so tired of <em>not understanding</em>,” he said. “And,” he firmed his jaw. “<em>And</em> I’m attached to the 304<sup>th</sup> and I’m not going to stop being attached to them whatever the other Masters say. And I don’t understand what the Jedi are doing or why you do it – I don’t think you’re <em>bad</em> I just- It doesn’t make <em>sense</em> to me.”</p><p>“Then perhaps,” Master Koon said, “The first step is to seek common understanding.” He felt sympathetic now and Harry almost but not quite leant into it.</p><p>“I’m <em>trying</em>,” he whispered. “There’s just so much information.”</p><p>“Common understanding is a two-way process,” Master Koon said. “And it seems that I may have some time available in the next month. Perhaps I might escort you to Ilum to fetch your lightsabre crystal and we might talk.”</p><p>“<em>Lightsabres</em>,” Harry grumbled. He took a breath. “I want to stay with the 304<sup>th</sup>.”</p><p>Master Koon nodded slowly. “Do the 304<sup>th</sup> want to stay with you?” he asked gently, and Harry scowled at him.</p><p>“<em>Yes</em>,” he said sharply. “Talk to Sen.”</p><p>“A sensible action,” Master Koon said thoughtfully. “I think that I shall.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0029"><h2>29. Chapter 29</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The shuttle settled down softly, one of the 304<sup>th</sup> directing it with a neat touch at the controls. Plo Koon hadn’t been able to justify bringing all twenty of the squadron, not with his own three troopers accompanying him, but he’d made sure Lieutenant Sen was present. It would be a long day for the younglings to retrieve their crystals and far enough out that perhaps the trooper would feel comfortable speaking his mind. Perhaps not. He’d noticed the 304<sup>th</sup>’s unwillingness to speak freely around the Jedi.</p><p>It had been a quiet enough hyperspace jump out to Ilum and the two Padawans and three Initiates had been reasonably well-behaved – although Plo had noticed that Harry had spent little enough time with his age mates. That was something that might need a delicate touch in future – although, perhaps it was hasty to speak of the future when he knew Master Vos and Master Eshki had both expressed their own interest.</p><p>The younglings seemed a touch nervous, Harry sharp-eyed and in quiet conversation with one of the 304<sup>th</sup> – CT-4387, Plo Koon seemed to recall, although his brothers seemed more likely to name him Seefer. He hadn’t invited Plo Koon to use his name, however, so CT-4387 he would remain for now.</p><p>The sun was just rising over the horizon, bright in a clear sky – no blizzard today. That was good; it gave the younglings plenty of time to seek out their crystal. If they were efficient about it then they could be within the cave systems in the next hour, giving them a full forty hours before the sun would set and the entrances would seal themselves. A quick check showed they were appropriately bundled up, although one of the Initiates was shivering at the very sight of the snow-covered outside – Plo Koon felt for them, although as a Kel Dor he’d never suffered from temperatures the way other species did.</p><p>“You all remember your briefing?” he asked encouragingly, and was greeted by a wave of nods. CT-4387 re-checked Harry’s scarf and then, seemingly unable to help himself, did the same for the smallest of the Initiates. “Wonderful,” he said, hoping his smile was conveyed in his voice. It seemed to perk up the youngest in any case and even Harry relaxed a little bit of that tension that he always seemed to carry around.</p><p>“Do remember,” Plo Koon said, as the shuttle doors began to slide open. “This may be a test but it is not the only time you may take it. You must assess the danger to yourself appropriately. If you need retrieval, flare your presence and I will come – no one will think poorly of you for it.” There had been times when certain Jedi Masters had forgotten to emphasise this. Plo Koon did not intend for any of the younglings to be harmed on his watch, however. “Visions are common – remember your training. Mind your breath, mind your emotions and mind the Force. It will tell you if something is a danger to your mind or a danger to your health.”</p><p>“Yes, Master Koon,” the Initiates chorused raggedly. The oldest Padawan was grimly focused and Harry was – ah yes, he was pretending that he didn’t have a blaster tucked under his belt, as were all the troopers standing around him. Well, no need to comment on it. There was no harm in being prepared.</p><p>“Well,” Plo Koon said cheerfully. “Off you go. Take care and stay warm!”</p><p>’02 from the 304<sup>th</sup> had landed them perhaps closer to the Temple and the cave systems than tradition really allowed but it was <em>very</em> cold out. It did mean that the younglings were able to make good time in their little huddle – wonderful to see how they looked out for each other. Plo Koon fondly remembered his own first trip to Ilum, some decades back now. For many of the Initiates it was the first real test they faced without an adult by their side.</p><p>CT-4387 loped off to a nearby vantage point and Plo Koon could safely assume that there would be a watch on the cave entrance for when any of the younglings emerged – which could be anywhere from five hours from now right through to the full forty. Why, when Giiett’s Padawan had travelled to Ilum, Butlar had emerged barely three minutes before the caves sealed behind her. Hopefully none of this group would be quite so dramatic.</p><p>“The rotations are a little long here,” Plo Koon commented. “Wolffe, perhaps you could make sure that the watches are no more than two hours at a time? I wouldn’t want anyone unnecessarily tired when we depart.”</p><p>Wolffe nodded sharply and Plo Koon couldn’t stop the warmth rising from within him as his Commander eyed the surrounding troops with a gimlet eye. He’d certainly taken to the remaining 304<sup>th</sup> with an aggressive possessiveness following the joint tragedies. Perhaps there were a few sharp edges to wear off but Plo Koon had faith that in time the two squadrons would work well together – and provide veteran guidance if the Council decided that the 104<sup>th</sup> would be replenished with another battalion.</p><p>“’49, you’ve got second watch,” Wolffe said sharply. “Boost, third.” He continued to hand out tasks, finishing with “and 4387, make sure you get <em>sleep</em> in between watches instead of stalking your brothers’ watches.”</p><p>CT-4387’s nod was a thing of beautiful insolence and Plo Koon regarded him fondly. He was rather reminded of Obi-Wan in his youth, although CT-4387 was certainly freer with his affections. <em>Time,</em> he reminded himself. You could not demand respect or trust, after all, only earn it. He looked forward to the opportunity.</p><p>“Lieutenant Sen,” Plo Koon said lightly. “Perhaps we might talk?”</p><p>The Lieutenant’s glance upwards was sharp underneath his helmet. That was another thing about the 304<sup>th</sup>, the troopers rarely removing their helmets unless they were alone. It almost reminded Plo of the Creed-sworn Mandalorians although certainly not quite as extreme.</p><p>“Sir,” Sen acknowledged, on his feet. It was perfectly respectful if one could not feel the undercurrent of wariness that he almost broadcast. Wolffe eyed Plo Koon, and Plo Koon was careful to discreetly wave him down. His commander could be a little overprotective at times and it would not do to set anyone on edge.</p><p>“A suggestion from Harry,” Plo Koon said pleasantly. “I think – yes, one of the cabins, unless you object?”</p><p>“Sir,” Sen responded – an affirmative. That did seem to be the 304<sup>th</sup>’s favourite word with a vast array of meanings that could be infused into it. It was certainly admirable – he knew diplomats who could only dream of the intonations they reached. Nonetheless, Plo Koon was hopeful he might get a few <em>other</em> words out of this conversation beyond ‘sir’.</p><p>He gestured Sen ahead and let the door slide closed behind them. He could sense the way the five accompanying members of the 304<sup>th</sup> had come to alertness, a tense kind of silence behind him.</p><p>“We’ve been lucky in our travels,” Plo Koon commented mildly. “I believe we’ve taken a day off the average travel time.” Sen continued to be monotone in his responses although anticipation built up in him as they entered the small Initiates’ cabin. Plo Koon could not use his own – the atmosphere would not suit an oxygen-breather like Sen.</p><p>“I’ve had a few interesting conversations with young Harry,” Plo Koon said. He considered waiting for a response but realised it would continue to be stonewalled. Better not to make the trooper feel cornered. “I fear that the Jedi have not yet set him at ease.” He frowned a little. That had been a mildly uncomfortable realisation, that not everyone felt the peace and serenity that he did within the Temple walls. Although, since Abregado, even he’d found that serenity was hard to find in his old haunts.</p><p>Sen cocked his head and said nothing. For a moment, Plo Koon allowed himself to wonder as to the origins of his name.</p><p>“I fear that perhaps the Jedi have not yet set you or your brothers at ease,” he continued gently. He managed not to sigh, but it was with some difficulty. He did <em>not</em> like how the Republic were making use of the clones – and certainly, they were wonderful men and wonderful to serve beside but “<em>they’re still people</em>,” echoed in their head. Surely they knew that the Jedi recognised that? He could hardly bring himself to think otherwise.</p><p>“Eskilon-5 was unpleasant,” Sen said in a remarkable understatement. Plo Koon wished that he could see his face, but he would not demand the lieutenant remove his helmet.</p><p> “And Christophsis not much better,” Plo suggested. Sen shrugged.</p><p>“Different,” he said shortly, and then, “We could at least fight on Christophsis.”</p><p>“The Padawan suggested that Krell,” and Plo Koon couldn’t give him the title Master, not after what Harry had alleged, “Was not the most generous of Generals.”</p><p>The bitterness that bubbled off Sen was unpleasant for a second, but he brought himself under control quickly. Plo Koon could think of a few knights who couldn’t do that much better. “He wasn’t,” Sen said. <em>Abominations</em>, Harry had said.</p><p>“Will you speak to me of it?” he requested and finally, <em>finally </em>Sen pulled off his helmet. There was little distinctive about his face – few of the 304<sup>th</sup> had strayed into individuality in their appearance.</p><p>“I’d sooner know why you were asking sir,” Sen said. He was measured, quiet and reliable. Plo Koon could see why he might have been selected out of the ranks for promotion. A good balance for his Sergeant – Lucian, Plo Koon seemed to recall, who was gruffer support and willing to push.</p><p>Plo Koon considered his answer and decided on frankness. “I do not believe the 304<sup>th</sup> trust the Jedi,” he said. “I do not believe your Commander,” and he chose the words <em>your Commander</em> deliberately, having seeing the way they interacted, “Does either.” Sen’s face was unchanging. “I cannot fix something if I do not understand how they have come to be the way that they are. Harry suggested that I should talk to you and so,” he spread his hands, “I am talking to you.”</p><p>“Because another Jedi asked you to?” Sen asked and Plo Koon had to still the flinch at that mild accusation.</p><p>“Because we have a duty to <em>you</em>,” he said. “To both you and to our younglings. Perhaps your Commander drew my attention to this – I admit fault, for I have been… distracted, recently.” He could not help the list of names that started to recite their way through his mind – such a <em>waste</em>, so many of them at Abregado just flickering out like candle-light.</p><p>“A duty because we were created for you?” Sen suggested and Plo Koon hummed.</p><p>“I do not like the thought of anyone being created <em>for</em> someone,” he admitted after a moment. “This is certainly what our records show, and yet…”</p><p>Sen looked at him. “One of my men pointed out that we were commissioned well before the Separatists even began to move,” he said. “How reliable are Jedi visions, that they can commit billions of credits on one being’s word?”</p><p>Plo Koon’s mouth turned down. “You ask no questions that we do not ask ourselves,” he rumbled. “And we have not come to answers.” He thought it over. “I do believe in the Unified Force and visions very much originate from this. Reliability often depends on the individual’s connection – some see what may come if they do not act, others see what <em>will</em> come. Still others see potential shatterpoints of the turning points of fate. Master Sifo-Dyas was… connected very strongly to his foresight.”</p><p>“Master Sifo-Dyas?” Sen looked almost as though he wanted to be taking notes.</p><p>“From our records, he was the one to first communicate with the Kaminoans,” Plo Koon admitted. “He had visions of a great war to come and feared the Republic would fall.” He considered what to say but – the Force seemed to trill for a second, and Plo Koon <em>knew</em> that he had to establish trust. Honesty would have to suffice. “He was removed from the Council – we disagreed with his conclusions.”</p><p>Sen processed this and Plo Koon wondered what he was thinking.</p><p>“If he was removed,” Sen said slowly, “How did he find the funds?”</p><p>“That certainly is a question, isn’t it?” And it certainly had caused the council much anguish – as it seemed to cause Sen, jerking back sharply.</p><p>“You,” he spluttered, then, “Someone delivers you an <em>army </em>purchased with funds you can’t identify and you just start using it? How is that not sending off every klaxon-alarm in the <em>galaxy</em>?”</p><p>Plo Koon nodded solemnly. “Yes,” he admitted. “An army cloned from a man infamous for killing a number of Jedi bare-handed.”</p><p>Sen made a noise. It could generously be interpreted as outrage. Plo Koon nodded in agreement to it.</p><p>“Several council members have chosen to resign over this,” he said, a little contemplative. It had been a great loss for the council. “I understand the concerns – and yet, I have met many of your brothers and there has not been a single one that I have felt is a threat to the Jedi.”</p><p>The noise Sen made this time sounded something like “Seefer.” Plo Koon fought back an inappropriate smile.</p><p>“We did as our mandate instructs us and informed the Senate of our discovery – and the Senate made it clear that the Jedi were to join the war against the Separatists, and that we were,” his mouth twisted slightly, “to do so with the assistance of you and your brothers. I am told that there is, of course, an investigation ongoing.”</p><p>Plo Koon couldn’t be certain what Sen was thinking of, his eyes flickering slightly from side to side. He muttered something – maybe ‘I need to change my name’?</p><p>“Okay,” Sen said finally. “Fine.” He remembered the “Sir,” after a second and Plo Koon waved it off – titles were truly an unnecessary burden of this war.</p><p>“To return to the original point, however,” Plo Koon said. “The Jedi were certainly instrumental in you and your brothers’ creation and that does create a corresponding duty. I feel that we have failed you.”</p><p>“Krell was a bastard,” Sen said bluntly. “I don’t know what the Commander said about him, but he didn’t like clones and he didn’t care if we died.”</p><p>Plo Koon closed his eyes. That was… <em>unfortunate</em>.</p><p> “He was strange around the Commander too,” Sen continued. “I don’t know if that’s just how Jedi act but – he didn’t want him talking to us, he didn’t want him interacting. Half the time he was walking around with a hand on the Commander’s shoulder, like he didn’t trust him to be out of arm’s reach.”</p><p>“Our records show that Harry is mostly human,” Plo said quietly. “Some hybridisation which seems to have caused his ability to speak the Besalisk tongue. However, it is not uncommon for Besalisks to be possessive of their young – discouraged among the Jedi, of course, but we do understand that there are always variations across species.”</p><p>Sen’s look was entirely sceptical and Plo Koon allowed it. He’d been surprised at some of the genetic markers himself but apparently they ran dormant in Harry’s genes. That had hardly been the only surprising part – the midichlorian test had been run three times and had given a different result each time which was entirely unheard of. They were currently uncertain as to whether he marked in around 12,000 or over 20,000, which Plo Koon fully intended to use in support of his argument to abolish that kind of testing in future.</p><p>“I gave you my report,” Sen said quietly. “So did Cricket. The day of the eclipse Krell acted… erratically.” He shrugged. “Harry said he’d been acting off for days, spending all his time staring at the Stone and running calculations.” The stone, Plo Koon recalled, was causing no end of consternation at the Temple. No one could quite work out what it was <em>for</em> but it hummed with a Force presence that was impossible to ignore.</p><p>“The troopers,” Plo Koon said quietly and Sen shrugged.</p><p>“I don’t know if he killed them,” he said. “But I know that he wouldn’t have bothered to fight back if it was just us dying.” He looked at Plo Koon. “Why are we supposed to trust you if this is who you give us to?”</p><p>Plo Koon inclined his head. “It is a more than fair question,” he said. “I do not have an answer for you. And yet.”</p><p>“The Republic,” Sen said.</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>Sen sighed. “Sir,” he said. “Look, I don’t mind fighting for the Republic. I want to fight with my brothers and I want to help save lives. I just – I think we’re <em>owed</em> something too, and that something isn’t just to have our lives thrown away by inexperienced commanders.” He looked down at his red and gold gloves. “I want my brothers to live,” he said. “I want our Commander to live. Maybe my brothers and I have to do our duties – but Harry’s <em>twelve, </em>sir, and he’s got a Sith Lord trying to kill him and we’ll do what we have to keep him safe.”</p><p>Plo Koon considered this carefully. “I can respect that,” he said.</p><p>“Can you?” Sen asked. “Because it seems a lot of your teachers just want to talk about the inappropriateness of attachment.”</p><p>“Harry is strong in the Force,” Plo Koon said. He needed to think his words through carefully. “That does come with responsibilities. It is very easy for a Force user to harm someone if they are caught up in emotions.”</p><p>“Have you ever seen Harry hurt someone accidentally?” Sen said. “<em>I </em>haven’t, and the kid’s been through active warzones with almost no training. Seems to me like if he was going to lose control he’d already have done it.”</p><p>Plo Koon conceded that point. “I would be cautious about him leaving without further training,” he said mildly, careful not to shape the words into an accusation. “It is easy for younglings to fall out of the habits that provide safety for themselves and others. That said, I do recognise that Core Temple teachings are perhaps not the <em>only</em> way to safely wield the Force.”</p><p>“Would your council see that?”</p><p>“Perhaps not,” Plo Koon said. “However, I do sit on the council for a reason.” And perhaps they had allowed themselves too much complacency in their ways. <em>Why so few Jedi? </em>Harry asked him and Plo Koon wondered again what he was comparing it to. “Perhaps a probationary period,” Plo Koon suggested. “The 304<sup>th</sup> merge with the 104<sup>th</sup> – that would be uncontroversial. I speak to Harry and perhaps he agrees he would be willing to spend some time with me. I would hope that I am no Krell to your men.”</p><p>“No,” Sen agreed softly. “I don’t think you’re Krell.”</p><p>“Your priority may remain Harry for the moment – I do not ask for you to trust me with all your secrets.” <em>I do not think you would share them if I did ask</em>. “Let us see if we might be able to find a way to work together.” That would permit the 304<sup>th</sup> time to continue their own plans and permit Plo Koon time to build their trust in him. He had faith that there was a way forward between them. However-</p><p>“I- cannot guarantee your safety,” he admitted. “It seems I could not guarantee the safety of my own men.”</p><p>Sen laughed at that. “No one can guarantee anyone safety,” he said. “I’m more interested in knowing <em>what </em>I’m getting into – not being sent into missions blind.”</p><p>“Agreed,” Plo Koon said and reminded himself to talk to Wolffe.</p><p>Sen closed his eyes and seemed to calculate. “Fine,” he said after a moment. “Probationary period. Let’s do this, sir.”</p><p>Plo Koon did not hide the relief in him. “I will do my best to prove worthy of your expectations,” he promised quietly. “For now though, perhaps we should wait for the younglings to return.”</p><p>“<em>Lightsabres</em>,” Sen mumbled under his breath and Plo Koon chuckled.</p><p>“I dare say they’ll grow on you eventually,” he said genially. “They do come in use, I will promise you that.”</p><p>“Just one thing,” Sen said. “Voldemort.”</p><p><em>The Sith</em>. “I cannot guarantee that we would overcome him,” Plo Koon said, “But you have my word that I will put every effort into getting between him and those he would kill.”</p><p>“There were Mandalorians on Eskilon-5,” Sen said. “After we left. Death Watch.”</p><p>Not quite ideal, Plo Koon recognised. “Did they survive?”</p><p>“Apparently so, sir,” Sen said. “But – there’s unease. From someone who’s tracking them.”</p><p>…The 304<sup>th</sup> certainly had been resourceful in their time on Coruscant. Perhaps he should look into some additional intelligence training for the team. “I will ask for someone to investigate,” Plo Koon promised. “We will do our best.” He paused. “And I will inform you if we do get additional information.”</p><p>“I,” Sen said, and then, “Thank you sir.”</p><p>Plo Koon nodded and Sen refitted his helmet. The silence on the way back was far more settled than it had been before. This was a chance, he thought hopefully. Things seemed a little brighter than they had since Abregado – some productive steps taken. He did so look forward to getting to know the 304<sup>th</sup> better now. Maybe he should look into some red accessories of his own – but no, it was far too early for that.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0030"><h2>30. Chapter 30</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The thermoregulated body suit they’d all had pressed on them might have made the cold <em>survivable</em>, but it certainly hadn’t made it tolerable. Harry was grateful they were within a ten-minute trek of the cave entrance because he hadn’t understood just how cold it was possible for a planet to be. He was pretty sure the other Padawan was using the Force to stay on top of the snow but he couldn’t quite figure out the trick behind it.</p><p>Fortunately the wind wasn’t high and the entrance that Plo Koon had directed them to land nearby was easy to access. Harry shook the snow off his clothes as soon as they were in something close to cover and squinted into the darkness. It looked deeply uninviting. The other Padawan broke out a glow stick and was gone before anyone had a chance to say anything which – was not unexpected, given they hadn’t been the chattiest of beings on the trip over.</p><p>Harry raised a slow eyebrow at the three Initiates. Two were older than him but all were looking nervous. They’d been given detailed briefings on what to expect – visions to test them, voices in the dark. <em>Trust the Force</em>, Plo Koon had emphasised.</p><p>“Your lights all work?” Harry checked and the resulting flare proved they did. He nodded and stepped forward.</p><p>The darkness seemed to swallow the light from his glow stick but he was still aware of the three trailing behind him. The crystals only started appearing around a mile from the surface they’d been told – but there was no harm sticking together until then, was there?</p><p>They came to a fork a few minutes in and Harry frowned for a second. He didn’t have spare markers, but… A silent <em>lumos</em> stuck a marker to the wall and he kept moving.</p><p>He kept marking the walls as they went through, slow and steady. The only noise seemed to be the scuff of feet and the quietly panting breaths. He wanted to go down, he thought dimly, down and… east maybe? He didn’t know why. When he pinned the next light to the wall, one of the Initiates had vanished from the group trailing him. He swallowed a jolt of fear.</p><p>“Where did,” and he could remember the name, he <em>could</em>, “Tk’Klis go?” he whispered hoarsely. No one responded. The smallest Initiate, a large-headed Cerean, stared at him unseeing through white eyes. She blinked for a second and when Harry turned away the other Initiate had vanished. Harry spun rapidly – he couldn’t have moved that quickly.</p><p>“<em>Harry</em>,” someone whispered and Harry swallowed.</p><p>“Mis-Eli-Rindin,” he said tersely. “Did you hear-”</p><p>But she was gone too.</p><p><em>Okay</em>, Harry thought. <em>Okay</em>, they’d been told to expect this. His glowstick guttered and then dropped into darkness and Harry took a deep breath. It was the matter of a thought that set a lumos alight in his hand.</p><p>“<em>Harry, what’s happening?”</em> someone called – Hermione called. “<em>Harry, is there someone in there with you? Harry- Harry, where are you?”</em></p><p><em>“Miss. Granger,” </em>Dumbledore said softly, solemnly. “<em>I fear that Mr. Potter is no longer with us.”</em></p><p>“I’m here!” Harry shouted back.</p><p>“<em>Voldemort did not obtain what he was after. We can only hope-” </em>His voice trailed off.</p><p>“I’m <em>here!”</em> Harry shouted. “Hermione!”</p><p>“<em>Seven was always the most magically significant number</em>,” a woman’s voice said. Harry flared his lumos higher, trying to see her – but the was no one there, only bare stone. He moved forward.</p><p>“<em>Seven soul shards</em>,” Dumbledore said in deep sorrow. “<em>We will have to find them all.</em>”</p><p>Seven – seven people like him? Harry felt sick. He moved forward again, trying to follow the voices. Master Koon’s voice rang dimly in his head, but he couldn’t remember what he’d said.</p><p>“<em>We’ll do whatever we have to do to fight- him,” </em>Ron said grimly. “<em>I might not be the Chosen One but-”</em></p><p>“<em>Voldemort needs to fall,” </em>Hermione agreed. She sounded worried. “<em>I just – is this the right way to do it?</em>”</p><p><em>“The prophecy doesn’t count anymore</em>,” Ron said. He sounded bitter. “<em>That was supposed to be Harry but Harry – he’s gone</em>.”</p><p>“<em>Harry was a child,” </em>Hermione said. “<em>Even if he was- alive, this wouldn’t be his responsibility.”</em></p><p><em>“Magic says it was,</em>” Ron said. “<em>Prophecy said it was</em>.”</p><p>Harry was silent now, listening. Was this – was this his fault? If he’d been stronger, better - ? And maybe if he’d been stronger and better on Eskilon-5 then they wouldn’t have died there either. His hand trembled and the <em>lumos</em> collapsed. He couldn’t relight it.</p><p>“Ron?” he called. “Ron, I’m – I’m sorry.”</p><p><em>“You can’t – it’s never one person’s responsibility,” </em>Hermione said. “<em>That’s not right. We fight together, not-” </em>She sighed and the noise seemed to echo for long seconds. “<em>Dumbledore isn’t the only person who can be right. We all have to make the decision to fight, and we all have to be responsible. No one can take that choice away.”</em></p><p><em>“People need a leader,</em>” Ron said and his voice sounded further away now. Harry couldn’t hear a response. He put a hand out to steady himself on the stone wall. Why couldn’t they hear him?</p><p>“<em>Do you think he’s right?”</em> someone asked. Harry twisted and there was the sound of a headtorch clicking on. One of the <em>vod</em> stood there but there was a blankness in the Force and for the first time Harry couldn’t recognise him. He squinted uncertainly.</p><p>“Right about what?” he asked.</p><p><em>“The Chosen One</em>,” the trooper said. “<em>That’s you, isn’t it?</em>”</p><p>“I don’t know,” Harry said uncertainly.</p><p>“<em>You’re supposed to kill the Sith,</em>” he said. “<em>Do you think that’s why he came after you?</em>”</p><p>“I,” Harry said, and then, in a very small voice, “Maybe.”</p><p>The trooper hummed He removed his helmet – and CT-4111, Harry could place him now. “<em>That’s no good, Commander,” </em>he said. “<em>Guess we should have spent some more time on our Sith takedown plans.” </em>He smiled a little wryly.</p><p>“<em>Explosives</em>,” Blast said firmly, appearing beside him. “<em>I told you, we should have rigged the place.”</em></p><p>“I’m <em>sorry</em>,” Harry said, but they were both gone. They hadn’t – they hadn’t seem to blame him though. He clenched his fists. It wasn’t fair that – that he was finding people to care about and Voldemort was just <em>taking</em> them from him.</p><p>“<em>I hope that you’re not suggesting that we leave you Commander</em>,” Sen said, his voice disapproving.</p><p>“<em>You are not alone</em>,” Lucian said.</p><p>“<em>I want you to be my kid</em>,” Seefer said and Lucian again - <em>“You don’t just get Seefer out of this</em>.”</p><p>“<em>I don’t care about the Greater Good!” </em>Hermione shouted. Her voice seemed very loud, almost as if she were stood next to him. “<em>You can’t take people’s choices away from them – this isn’t right!”</em></p><p><em>“This is about order,”</em> a man’s voice was booming. It was accented and there was something compelling to it – broadcasting as if to an enormous group of people. <em>“It is not an easy choice to make, but we cannot permit the world to descend into chaos. We must have law</em>. <em>We are the only ones who can make these choices and it is our duty to ensure we bring about the greatest good for the greatest number of people-”</em></p><p><em>“Slavery used to be legal,” </em>Hermione’s voice hissed to someone else. “<em>That never meant that it was right.”</em></p><p><em>“The greater good – ”</em> someone said.</p><p><em>“The individual – ” </em>someone else snapped.</p><p>
  <em>“Haven’t we had enough of war?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“- needs to change –”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“- to stabilise – ”</em>
</p><p>“Stop it!” Harry shouted. He screwed his eyes closed and focused on his breathing, trying to calm himself.</p><p>“Harry?” someone asked and Harry blinked slowly. The sun filtered in overhead and there were a few tents scattered around. A tall dark-skinned boy was staring at him in shock. He looked to be in his late teens and was wearing a Gryffindor scarf.</p><p>“Oh,” Harry said. He’d forgotten how Earth had <em>sounded</em>, with the birds in the background and the rustle of leaves.</p><p>“Dean, what are you doing?” a voice called bossily – and that was Hermione there, older still, worn and tired but burning with some kind of determination that drew the eye. She came up to Dean’s side and then blinked. “Harry?” she said. She looked confused. “What’s the shatterpoint here?”</p><p>“Er,” Dean said. “Hermione, what the hell?”</p><p>“Oh, he’s just a hallucination,” Hermione said, flapping a hand. “He turns up at critical points – helps me to make the right decision. Every time’s been a major change in my life.” She smiled a little fondly.</p><p>“Do you normally share hallucinations?” Dean asked pointedly and Hermione blinked at that.</p><p>“I,” she said. “No.” She frowned at Harry and Harry could almost see her cataloguing things. “Harry – what happened to your scar? And your glasses?”</p><p>Harry raised a hand to his cheek. Sometimes he forgot about it. “Voldemort happened,” he said. “And the Jedi fixed my eyes.”</p><p>The three of them stared at each other in mutual incomprehension.</p><p>“I’m not a hallucination,” Harry decided to add helpfully. “If anything, you’re <em>my </em>hallucination. I’m in Ilum and I was told visions were normal here.”</p><p>“Ilum?” Dean asked.</p><p>“It’s a planet,” Harry said. “And it’s a <em>frozen wasteland</em>.” He grimaced.</p><p>Dean’s mouth moved as if he were trying to process this. Hermione was tapping her fingers together. “Does that mean you’re still alive?” she asked. “But why haven’t you aged the way we have?”</p><p>“It’s not even been a year yet,” Harry said irritably. He paused and scrunched his nose up. “A year and maybe another hundred thousand.” He said the last words quickly, in a mumble.</p><p>“A hundred thousand years,” Hermione said slowly.</p><p>“I’m – I’m pretty sure you’re dead,” Harry said. “Everyone is.”</p><p>“I’d certainly hope so after a <em>hundred thousand years</em>,” Hermione said and Dean made a noise of distress.</p><p>“I take it back,” he said. “This is definitely a joint hallucination.”</p><p>“But – you said Voldemort came with you,” Hermione said and then, “Oh. He had one last soul shard.”</p><p>“What?” Dean demanded. “We’re – the last battle’s supposed to be soon, I thought we were going to take him down.”</p><p>“He’s back now but – he gets defeated,” Harry said slowly. “I’m pretty sure of it. The history’s not exactly great but – I think Grindelwald uses Dumbledore’s wand, maybe?”</p><p>“Dumbledore’s <em>wand</em>?” Hermione asked. “Why would that be significant?” She looked like she wanted to dive into research there and then, but she shook her head after a second. “We can look into that later. You said you were somewhere that you got visions?”</p><p>“Ilum,” Harry said. “It’s a – planet, where we’re supposed to get a crystal. Like, a partner crystal.” He frowned. “I’m supposed to use the Force – er, use magic to find a crystal that’s suited for me so I can,” he fumbled briefly, “Build a wand. Sort of.”</p><p>“Like Divination?” Dean asked. He looked bewildered. “I thought you had to have the Sight for that to be possible.”</p><p>Harry sighed. “I don’t know – magic’s different now. It’s more – <em>alive</em>, I guess. Like, people talk about the ‘will of the Force’ as if it’s a real thing and sometimes,” he chewed on his lip. “It’s more like it’s <em>life</em>, I guess. It has a heartbeat when you listen closely, more like something that binds the universe together.”</p><p>“But still waved around as a form of superiority I guess,” Dean grumbled and Harry shrugged.</p><p>“Maybe,” he said vaguely. “But – everyone’s part of it now. It’s not like magic where you could have someone be completely dead to it, it’s still there even if not everyone can use it.”</p><p>Hermione looked worryingly speculative, like she was tucking away the information carefully. “Well,” she said after a moment. “You’re here now.”</p><p>Harry took a moment to inspect his own body. “Not really,” he admitted after a second. “I think – my mind’s here, but my body’s still back there. I guess it’ll be like the other times when I end up – going back.”</p><p>Dean reached out to touch his shoulder. As soon as he made contact it was like Harry was seeing double, the caves roughly interposed over the forest. Dean snatched his hand back. “Woah,” he said. “That was – those caves, that’s where you are?”</p><p>“You saw it?” Harry said, and then, “Yes.”</p><p>Hermione reached out this time, tapping his shoulder and withdrawing multiple times.</p><p>“Could you- not?” Harry said. “That’s making me feel sick.”</p><p>“You need to find a crystal?” Hermione asked and Harry nodded. “Well,” she said. “I think it’s <em>my</em> turn to help you.”</p><p>“<em>Ours</em>,” Dean corrected irritably. “You know we aren’t supposed to go out by ourselves.”</p><p>Hermione made a little waving motion.</p><p>“Company would be good,” Harry said quietly. “The visions hurt a bit.”</p><p>Dean and Hermione reached out together and this time the switch felt almost natural. Harry could feel their hands warm on his shoulders. The <em>lumos</em> that came from them lit the cave up brightly and Harry felt like he could see for miles.</p><p>“Do you know where we should be going?” Hermione asked and Harry frowned. He nudged out and then pointed forward and down.</p><p>“That way,” he said. “I’m not sure – but there’s something there.”</p><p>“This place is creepy as hell,” Dean said frankly. “Luna would go nuts for it.”</p><p>The bickering was comforting if odd to his ears and Harry could move confidently now. There were no voices besides Hermione and Dean, no arguments about the greater good. Harry kept on moving, turning around corners and then came to a stop. The corridor broadened into an open cavern and within it sparkled a thousand crystals, each one bright in the Force.</p><p>“Oh, now that’s pretty,” Dean said. Hermione stuck a few lights to the wall.</p><p>“So how do you know which one is yours?” she asked briskly. Harry shrugged.</p><p>Dean let go of his shoulder but he didn’t disappear the way Harry expected him to. He leant close to a crystal and poked at it, before reeling back a little. He laughed, delighted. “It’s loyalty!” he said. Hermione moved beside him and touched the same one, before moving to one poking out nearby.</p><p>“Bravery,” she said with a little quirking smile. Harry reached out to touch them but they seemed silent to his senses.</p><p>“This is supposed to be a partner to you?” Hermione asked, and Harry nodded. “And there’s still a shard of Voldemort to fight,” she mused. “Now what would I want you to have beside you against Voldemort?”</p><p>“Good friends,” Dean said and Harry looked at them.</p><p>“I’ve got them,” he said. “Well – family, I guess.” His smile was involuntary and Hermione stared at him before beaming.</p><p>“I’m so happy to hear that,” she told him genuinely. She looked to be blinking back tears. “I – when I thought you died there, by yourself… Oh Harry, I’m <em>so </em>happy you’ve found something good.”</p><p>“Still got Voldemort,” Dean sing-songed and Hermione huffed at him.</p><p>“We’re going to make sure that it’s just one of Voldemort,” she snapped sharply. “No more soul shards – just one <em>mortal</em> Dark Lord. We’ll handle the rest.”</p><p>“Blast said we should have blown him up,” Harry said and Dean laughed.</p><p>“Sounds a practical solution to me. Now – the friends are covered, so – determination maybe?”</p><p>“Resolution,” Hermione said thoughtfully. She was brushing her hands over crystals. “To be steady when you need to and hold fast. To keep to your ethics.”</p><p>“Daring,” Dean said, and then grimaced. “No, that’s just another word for reckless. Seamus was daring.” He directed the words back to Harry. “He didn’t need to die but he thought he’d be a hero.” His voice was grim. “War’s about <em>practicality</em> Harry. Don’t go rushing ahead of people.”</p><p>“I’m sorry about Seamus,” Harry said. He could only see a boy with his eyebrows burnt off.</p><p>“Yeah,” Dean said. “I miss the moron.”</p><p>“Patience?” Hermione suggested, then, “No, that has its own risks. Don’t spend so long waiting for the perfect opportunity that you lose the good ones.”</p><p>“Flexibility. You need to be able to adapt to change and live with chaos. You can’t just keep holding onto the past.”</p><p>“No plan ever survives contact with the enemy,” Hermione said. “That’s not a bad one. I still like resolution though.”</p><p>“I mean,” Dean said. “It needs to be a balance, doesn’t it? To be steady when you need to be and change when you need to do that. There’s no such thing as black and white, I think we’ve all been taught that.”</p><p>Harry thought this through. “I like the idea of balance,” he offered. “And no one ever said I could <em>only </em>bring back one.”</p><p>“Perfect,” Hermione said. She plucked a crystal from the wall. “Then it’ll be resolution from me.”</p><p>“And flexibility from me,” Dean grinned.</p><p>They dropped the crystals in Harry’s hands and for a second Harry was overwhelmed by light, the Force surrounding him and blinding him. The crystals were quivering in his hands and he could feel them nudge into his mind for a brief second – and then everything went dark again. He didn’t need to speak to know Dean and Hermione were gone. The crystals felt warm though and he tucked them under his clothes to keep them close.</p><p>Resolution and flexibility. Steadiness and change. Yes, Harry thought. It was confusing but – maybe that was how it had to be.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0031"><h2>31. Chapter 31</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sha Chal slipped into the back room of Eleventh Heaven, making sure to lock the door behind her. For the first time in what felt like <em>months</em> Pre Vizsla, the true Mand’alor, had agreed to a two-way comms set up. She’d been getting increasingly frustrated over the communications she’d been getting through – instructions that made <em>no sense</em> and continued silence on all other fronts.</p><p>She keyed in her override codes and nudged at the interstellar communicator before sliding her helmet off, ready to report.</p><p>It took a long few minutes before the connection was established and she took the time to rehearse what she had to say. The Mand’alor had told her to look into the <em>Jetii </em>temple for whatever reason but she hadn’t let her other communication channels dry up. One of them had struck platinum for her and unearthed communication between the <em>dar’manda </em>Kryze and one of the pacifist Senators. It could be the opportunity the Death Watch had been waiting for.</p><p>A faint crackle sounded before Pre Vizsla came into view. His blue marked helmet was tucked under his arm and he had the same stern expression on his face that he’d always had. Sha knocked her fist into a sharp gesture of respect which he acknowledged with an irritated wave.</p><p>“Sha Chal,” he drawled and she straightened with a little bit of pride at her ‘alor knowing her name.</p><p>“Mand’alor,” she greeted back.</p><p>“You have the information requested?”</p><p>“The <em>Jetii</em> floor maps have been sent, ‘alor,” she said. He hummed, sounding a little disinterested. “Reports from Eskilon-5 have been sent as well. No records available of the artifact mentioned.”</p><p>Pre Vizsla leant forward a bit. His eyes were hawkishly intent. “<em>Nothing</em>?” he demanded.</p><p>“Nothing accessible, ‘alor,” she confirmed. He made a noise that could have been contempt.</p><p>“I thought better of you Sha Chal,” he said flatly and she barely held back the flinch. She did manage to bite back the excuses that rose – the <em>jetii </em>records were well-protected, he’d only given her a week and she’d <em>still </em>done better than she’d hoped for with floor maps. She bowed her head instead.</p><p>“Continue to search,” he commanded and she nodded in acknowledgement. “What about the boy?”</p><p>The boy could only mean one person. Sha swallowed. “Little progress,” she said. She thought of those green eyes. He was too young to be a target – any Mando knew that. “But ‘alor, I’ve had news from the Senate channels – the <em>dar’manda </em>Duchess-”</p><p>“I asked you about the <em>boy</em>, not the Duchess!” Pre Vizsla shouted, his face distorting in anger and Sha felt ice creep down her spine. The Duchess was – she was <em>dar’manda</em>. It was the duty of any true Mandalorian to hunt her and one of the greatest responsibilities of the Death Watch. That had been drilled into each and every one of them as recruits – the culture-killer had to die so that the Mandalorians did <em>not</em>.</p><p>“’Alor,” she protested. “She’s – there’s an opportunity – ” Maybe he didn’t understand what she was saying.</p><p>“<em>Enough!”</em> the Mand’alor shouted at her. His hands were spasming by his sides, clenching into fists and then releasing. Sha fell silent and he breathed heavily for a few moments. “The Duchess is <em>irrelevant,</em>” he hissed eventually and Sha couldn’t comprehend that. “The <em>boy</em>, Sha Chal.”</p><p>The boy. Not the <em>dar’manda</em>, the <em>jetii ad’ika </em>with the clone <em>buir</em>.</p><p>“The <em>jetii</em> don’t record the names of their Padawans in official mission files,” Sha reported woodenly. That was one of the security aspects that she most approved of. “ID codes are the only ones available. The Eskilon-5 report had the Padawan code eliminated. However, there are seven male humanoid Padawans remanded to the Temple following the death of their <em>jetii </em>teachers between the ages of eleven and fourteen. Five are currently off-planet.”</p><p> “That’s all you’ve been able to get?” Pre Vizsla demanded. “Have you even confirmed that he’s ever been on-planet?”</p><p>“No ‘alor,” Sha lied. The words came out without thought. She felt as though she’d taken a blow to the face. The Duchess is <em>irrelevant</em>. Instead she was to spend her time hunting <em>children</em>.</p><p>“Send over the files for the humanoids,” Pre Vizsla demanded and Sha inclined her head. “And <em>keep searching </em>for the artifact, Sha Chal. That should be your <em>absolute focus</em>.”</p><p>She saluted rather than say anything. She still had to know though – Eskilon-5. “Mand’alor, the Eskilon-5 report suggested Sith presence. Will the hunt for the artifact bring us into conflict?” she asked. “Njuts Qykaihl – ”</p><p>“The Sith have always been our traditional allies,” Pre Vizsla said. There was something almost manic about his eyes and his hands continued to quiver. “They are not your concern Sha Chal.”</p><p>Sha knocked her fist against her armour again, bowing her head. The rest of the call seemed to go in a blur, commands of information to source, of contact to be made with several of the Coruscant under-gangs. Pre Vizsla was planning something big, she knew. It couldn’t be an assault on the Temple – that would be suicide for any who tried it. What was he thinking though?</p><p>She realised faintly that her hands were trembling as much as the Mand’alor’s had when she disconnected the comm link. She completed the security checks without having to think much further and ignored the look Rraffur gave her as she left the building, helmet back on and hiding the expression on her face.</p><p>The Sith were their traditional allies, Pre Vizsla had said. There had been a Sith on Eskilon-5. No true communication for the past month and then a flurry of demands focused on the <em>Jetii</em>. And through it all, Pre Vizsla’s hands quivering as if he wanted to move them but was prevented from doing so. She didn’t like this <em>at all</em>.</p><p>…</p><p>Quinlan Vos reached out to replay the recording. To his side, Master Tholme was as expressionless as ever, his face drawn into stern lines.</p><p>“You are certain that she is aware of Padawan Potter?” he asked after the last few words faded into silence a second time.</p><p>“Yes,” Quinlan said firmly. “She’s met him at least once.”</p><p>Tholme nodded. “We may have our first route into the Death Watch then,” he said. He took a few more moments to think. “You have put CorSec onto alert?”</p><p>“Immediate flag on any Mandalorian craft entering or leaving Coruscant space,” Quinlan confirmed. “We’ve got an audio search going for any matches on this Mand’alor’s voice – we’ll see what gets turned up.”</p><p>“We should alert the Temple guards as well,” Tholme said slowly.</p><p>Quinlan looked at him sharply. “You think they’re going to push an assault?” he asked and Tholme looked old then, his greying hair in stark relief.</p><p>“A targeted one perhaps – they seem fixated on this Sith artifact.” His mouth was downturned. “It is not quite the suicide to target the Temple as it once was. Our rooms are nearly empty of knights now.”</p><p>Quinlan conceded that point with an unhappy twist of his lips. “Even if most of our knights are dispatched, we still have a few hundred Jedi here,” he said. “And that’s without the clone troopers supporting the patrols. The Mandalorians aren’t quite that reckless with their own lives yet.”</p><p>“Their traditional allies, however,” Tholme said and allowed it to trail off suggestively.</p><p>“The Sith from Eskilon-5,” Quinlan said. He rubbed at his facial tattoo and sighed. “He still only faced the one Jedi – and fled from Master Koon.”</p><p>“Killed one Jedi and a legion without any effort,” Tholme corrected. “And he was damaged by the Padawan, not by Master Koon.”</p><p>Quinlan shrugged as if to suggest the point still held. He looked more worried than his body language would hint at though. “Should we tell Master Koon not to return with Harry?” he asked. “It might be sensible to keep him out of the system.”</p><p>Tholme tilted his head slightly. “Planned assault or no, I would still imagine the Temple safer than many other options,” he said. “I cannot imagine a Sith willing to give up a hunt on one who’s harmed him.”</p><p>“True,” Quinlan said softly. “Poor kid.” His eyes were sharp rather than sympathetic. “If we were to relocate him to a battle station -”</p><p>“We don’t yet know which is the more interesting bait,” Tholme said. “If we split the boy and the artifact, we’d have to split the security too.”</p><p>“We’ve got the creches here though,” Quinlan said.</p><p>“We’ll talk to the council,” Tholme allowed. They’d have a better view on the security capabilities. “You’re a poor choice for a Master, while he has someone after his head.”</p><p>“I know, I know. Can’t be going undercover with someone already visible to the enemy,” Quinlan sighed. “I’ll withdraw. Plo Koon will only have to fight off Mirr-Tan Eshki for his Padawan.” They both paused to think of the formidable healer who’d announced that she intended to put in her claim because she didn’t trust anyone else to keep the youngling from driving himself to ruin with his own healing.</p><p>“The Padawan does have a voice,” Tholme said diplomatically after a moment. Quinlan snorted.</p><p>“And he’s been chased out of the Healing Ward by her often enough that I think he slips into camouflage at the sound of her voice.” He paused. “Do you think – the Padawan and the Sith, they came from the same school of training?”</p><p>“It’s not improbable,” Tholme said. “The boy knew of him before his first encounter.”</p><p>Quinlan breathed in through his nose. “The techniques he uses to hide himself – I’ve not seen much like it,” he said. “If the Sith can do similar then it wouldn’t be <em>impossible</em> for him to slip our security. I barely noticed Harry the first time.”</p><p>“The Sentinels have been briefed on that technique now,” Tholme said, and Quinlan shrugged.</p><p>“Harry’s a Padawan,” he said. “He’s half-trained at best. We’ve not seen what a master could do with those same techniques.”</p><p>“We do what we can,” Tholme said and Quinlan pulled a face at him.</p><p>“That wasn’t reassuring as a Padawan, why do you think it would work now?”</p><p>“Maybe I like to imagine that you’ve learnt some <em>patience</em> since your Padawan days,” Tholme said.</p><p>“I’ve been patient enough over the precious Sith artifact that we’ve been hovering over. If the Council would just let me <em>touch</em> the thing,” Quinlan said leadingly, and Tholme swatted at him.</p><p>“Have you not got into <em>enough</em> trouble with your retrocognition?” he demanded. “Circumspection is a valuable tool, you know that.”</p><p>“Circumspection?” Quinlan laughed. “Me? Never!”</p><p>“You still know better than to touch something so drenched in the dark side,” Tholme said, now a little reproving. “Falling from another’s memory is not impossible.”</p><p>“I know,” Quinlan said, more serious now. “It’s just – frustrating, that we know so little about it still.”</p><p>“There’s much that’s frustrating about today’s situation,” Tholme said. He knew they were both thinking of the war now, and the questions that seemed stuck with the Senate as thousands continued to die by the day.</p><p>Quinlan sighed heavily and shook his head. “How do you want to go about pressing our new potential informant?” he asked, changing the subject. Tholme went with it without hesitation.</p><p>“She’s only had contact with the clones?”</p><p>“One clone – Seefer, from the 304<sup>th</sup>.”</p><p>Tholme hummed. “Is he present?”</p><p>“Off-planet – out on the Ilum trip. They’re due back tomorrow.” He paused. “He’s not overly fond of the Jedi after Master Krell.”</p><p>Tholme eyed him and Quinlan tilted his head back at him. “He had a lot of casualties,” he said casually. “Probably more than he should have had.”</p><p>Tholme’s lips narrowed. “Are we tracking these… anomalies?” he asked and Quinlan raised his eyebrows.</p><p>“I’ve put the request in,” he said. “We’re supposed to look after our men. It’s not an easy thing to trace though.”</p><p>Tholme shook his head. “I do not like what this war is doing to the Jedi,” he said softly and Quinlan let his eyes fall to the ground.</p><p>“I don’t think anyone does,” he said. “But I think we can play Seefer if we keep it focused on the interest in Harry. He’s – protective.”</p><p>“I trust you to make the right call,” Tholme said and Quinlan gave him a quick smile in acknowledgement.</p><p>“We might get lucky,” he said wryly. “Plo Koon might have won them all over in the trip to Ilum. If any of the Jedi could, it’d be him.”</p><p>Tholme let the hint of a smile tug at his mouth before he abandoned it. “Talk to this Seefer. Play up the risk to the Padawan and play up the connection to the Sith. Get him to get in touch with this Mandalorian. If you can get them to have the conversation where you can listen, all so much the better.”</p><p>“We want the name of the Mand’alor,” Quinlan said.</p><p>“The name of the Mand’alor and the movements of the Sith,” Tholme confirmed. “And the more information we can get on what they’re planning to do with the Temple the better.”</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Still no lightsaber. Next chapter! (probably)</p><p>Mand'alor = leader of the Mandalorians. Potentially a disputed title(!)<br/>Ad = Child<br/>'ika = Little<br/>Jetii = Jedi<br/>Dar'manda = not Mando / exile / traitor<br/>Buir = Parent (gender neutral)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0032"><h2>32. Chapter 32</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>The trip back from Ilum didn’t seem to take long. The baby Jedi had returned alive if somewhat worse for wear, all clutching the tiny humming crystals of blue and green natural to Ilum. Harry had managed to acquire two which General Koon had pronounced uncommon but not unheard of. Apparently, it opened up some variation in lightsabre design and as a result Harry was tucked away in a corner with ’49 debating the pros and cons of different models.</p><p>Seefer watched over them with a distracted eye. Sen had briefed them all on the discussion he’d had with the General and Seefer found he couldn’t <em>disagree</em> with the conclusion their lieutenant had come to. When a Jedi made you a generous offer it was difficult to reject it without drawing curious eyes. Scramble would be ecstatic at least to have an option that wasn’t vanishing to a farm on the Outer Rim.</p><p>(Seefer suspected Ricochet and Sketch might actually be a bit disappointed though. He’d definitely caught the both of them sneak-downloading what looked like the dullest agricultural tracts it was possible to acquire.)</p><p>“It’s an <em>option</em>,” Sen had emphasised. “We’re not going to stop our preparations. We’re just going to make sure that there isn’t a better route out there.”</p><p>“Bit harder with the Commander over all our shoulders,” Seefer had been forced to point out. Wolffe was a hard-ass at the best of times, everyone knew that – and now he was a <em>paranoid </em>one following the loss of his men.</p><p>“You really think you and Cricket can’t get around him?” Sen had asked mildly which was – well, not untrue.</p><p>Still – probationary period? Like that was an actual thing. Once they got rolled in there was zero chance of them getting rolled back out. Bureaucracy would get in their way if nothing else. It was done though, sealed in the miniscule nod Sen had given Harry when the General had asked for a private word. Now it was either Plo Koon or desertion for them all, although there were apparently some formalities to be observed at the Temple.</p><p>The landing was smooth and ’02 seemed taken aback when the General took the time to compliment him on it. Seefer swung his bag onto his back and paused to clasp a hand on Harry’s shoulder, getting a bright smile in return.</p><p>“Need to drop my kit off in the dorms,” Harry said. “And Master Koon said I could take a proper look at Teeks this week.” He looked enthusiastic. “Maybe I can <em>show</em> them the issue so I can fix it.”</p><p>“You think you can?” Seefer asked. He tamped back the enthusiasm. “<em>Without</em> putting yourself at risk?”</p><p>Harry frowned up at him but seemed to decide on honesty. “Maybe,” he said. “I think… if I stop the sparks then maybe it will fix.” He shrugged. “But at least Healer Eshki won’t throw me out again.”</p><p>“Okay,” Seefer allowed. “Just be careful.” There was no Poms to drag him back when he got too involved this time. “One of us should be with you,” he said and Harry groaned at him.</p><p>“You all worry too much,” he grumbled and Seefer raised an eyebrow. It was under his bucket but Harry always could sense his expressions nowadays. The Force had its uses, Seefer supposed, and the majority seemed to be focused around Harry looking grumpy as he muttered a sarcastic “Yes, <em>buir</em>.” Seefer ruffled his hair mockingly and nudged him down the ramp.</p><p>“Comm us when you’re heading to the med-bay,” he said and Harry rolled his eyes. Was this teenaged rebellion? It seemed early days for it.</p><p>The 104<sup>th</sup> seemed intent on tagging along with the 304<sup>th</sup>, Wolffe saying something gruff about formal introductions. Sen winced a little – he’d no doubt wanted to warn the squad <em>before</em> their new commander was imposed on them. Seefer dropped to the back to tap out a quick message on his comm-link – Lucian should pick it up.</p><p>“So the armour colours,” the shiny of the 104<sup>th</sup> was saying – Seefer was pretty sure his name was Boost. “I’ve been looking into the paint colours but I couldn’t find the exact shade. What was the name of the colour your squad uses?”</p><p>Teejay was the one put on the spot and he looked trapped. “Uh,” he said. “I guess it’s – Jedi red?” He looked around for someone to save him but all of the 304<sup>th</sup> took that opportunity to carefully study the Temple walls. “And Jedi gold?” he offered hopefully, his voice tilting up at the end.</p><p>“Jedi red,” Wolffe said in a tone that made it clear what he thought of that.</p><p>“I,” Boost said. “Don’t think that’s on the colour list?” He had a datapad held in one hand. “Look, these are the reds available to us. I thought Hoshki crimson might be the closest match-”</p><p>“Uh,” Teejay said. “Maybe?”</p><p>Seefer was pretty sure ‘49’s shoulders were shaking slightly and he bit back his own grin. He carefully kept his gaze directed away from Teejay’s desperate glances around. The grin froze a little on his face when he spotted Vos heading towards them with a purpose.</p><p>“Incoming,” ’02 muttered and Sen tapped a finger on his leg to quiet him.</p><p>“Just back from Ilum?” Vos called cheerfully and was met with a round of crisp salutes that he waved off. “No need for that – Commander, was it? I was just after – Seefer, I need a word with you.” Underneath his broad smile he looked tired with a hint of mania over the swipe of gold that made up his face tattoo. Seefer eyed him reluctantly. ’02 held out a hand and he passed over his bag.</p><p>“Sir,” Wolffe said stiffly. “Can I ask what you need from my trooper?”</p><p>“Your trooper?” Vos blinked guilelessly. “And here I thought the 304<sup>th</sup> were still officially assigned to the Temple. Not to worry Commander, I’ll return him in one piece.”</p><p>Sen tapped his comm deliberately and Seefer inclined his head back before allowing Vos to steer him away. “More pirates, sir?” he asked mildly. He definitely still held a grudge over the <em>gambling</em>.</p><p>Vos gave him a quick grin but didn’t answer until they were tucked away in a small room somewhere in the Temple he’d never been before. “Not quite,” he said. “Do you remember Eleventh Heaven?”</p><p>Seefer had to take a moment to replay that one. “The – bar,” he said. “Where you first took Harry.”</p><p>Vos nodded sharply. “We left a bug there,” he said. “It’s one of the key communication hubs for a terrorist group known as the Death Watch.”</p><p>- And he’d sent Harry in there while he drank at the bar? Seefer’s already low opinion plummeted further, something Vos seemed to recognise with a bit of amusement. “We’ve been tracing their comms for a while,” Vos said. “They’ve changed. They were previously monitoring the Senate fairly intensely – now they want information on the Temple and Temple artifacts.”</p><p>A planned assault, maybe? Seefer frowned slightly.</p><p>“They’ve also,” Vos said very deliberately, “Been asking for information on a human Padawan called Harry.”</p><p> <em>What</em>.</p><p>“Death Watch,” Seefer said slowly, exploring the taste of the words. “I’m not familiar with them.”</p><p>“A Mandalorian splinter group,” Vos said. His eyes were very sharp. “They object very strongly to the new government of the Mandalore system – they believe in a return to the traditional ways of the Mandalorians.” He paused here. “The traditional Mandalorian allies, for your information, were the Sith.”</p><p>Mandalorians. Mandalorians and Sith. “Sha Chal,” he said, more a statement than a question. If she’d put Harry at risk then deal or not, she’d be <em>dead</em> soon enough.</p><p>“I know you’ve been in contact with the Mando,” Vos said in confirmation. “She’s – uneasy about what she’s being asked to do.”</p><p>“Has it stopped her?” Seefer asked and Vos wobbled a hand from side to side.</p><p>“She’s passed on information we’d really prefer she didn’t,” he said lightly. “But she claims not to have any specific knowledge of a male human padawan meeting the description she was given. She seems,” he lingered over the word, “<em>frustrated</em>.”</p><p>Seefer mulled this over. “There was a Mandalorian ship out to Eskilon-5,” he said. “Might have picked up a passenger. Might not - she didn’t know. She was worried though.”</p><p>“Whoever she was communicating with hinted very strongly that they were now working with the Sith,” Vos confirmed. “I’d assume that would have to be this Voldemort.”</p><p>When Seefer closed his eyes he could almost see the Sith in front of him – reeling back, screaming, what would have been an elegantly handsome face twisted into a rictus of pain, the skin bubbling over one half of his face. He could see someone getting angry about that. Why would the Mandalorians want to support him though? None of the whole politics <em>osik</em> made sense to him – that was Sen’s passion, not his.</p><p>“Okay,” Seefer said steadily. “So what do you need from me?”</p><p>“You’ve been in contact with her,” Vos said. Seefer kept back a flinch as he wondered what Vos knew about the content of that contact. “I need you to get back in contact with her and to press her for information – who the Mand’alor is, what information she has on their movements, this Sith – anything you can get. It seems unlikely that they’d want to assault the Temple but- we need to know what they’re planning.” He paused. “And why they’re interested in Harry – if there’s anything beyond the obvious.”</p><p>Seefer nodded. He pulled out his comm and typed in a quick message – <em>Want to catch up on our deal. When can you talk?</em></p><p>“What makes you think she’ll tell me?” he asked as he tucked the commlink away again. “She doesn’t think much of clones.”</p><p>“I promise you, she thinks less of Jedi,” Vos said dryly. “You’ve talked to her before – there’s at least some connection. Maybe talk a bit about Harry, see if you can build some guilt there. I think there’s a decent chance that she’s unhappy enough that she lets something slip.”</p><p>“And if she doesn’t?” Seefer asked.</p><p>“And if she doesn’t, CorSec continues to monitor inbound ships for Mandalorians, the Temple security continues to be raised and we stick a permanent tail on your favourite baby Jedi,” Vos said. Seefer glowered at him more out of habit than of any particular offense.</p><p>“A 304<sup>th</sup> tail,” he said and Vos snorted.</p><p>“That growly-looking Commander of yours seemed to think you were part of his battalion,” he said leadingly and Seefer scowled at him.</p><p>“304<sup>th</sup>, 104<sup>th</sup>,” he said. “Whichever. Wolffe will do what the Jedi tell him to.”</p><p>There was a buzz on his comm. <em>No time this week. Next works.</em></p><p><em>Sooner is better</em> Seefer messaged back. <em>Jahee’s again?</em></p><p>He didn’t recognise the address that he was sent in lieu of a proper response but Vos did. “Warehouse district,” he said. “It’ll be hard to get a tag on you there. That’s irritating.”</p><p>Seefer tapped at his helmet to indicate the recorder and Vos rolled his eyes expressively. “Go into the Warehouses wearing anything that suggest enforcement and they’ll be rolling your body out,” he said. “You’re going to have to go undercover.”</p><p>“With this face?” Seefer asked and Vos sighed.</p><p>“We’ll work it out. What date can you get?”</p><p>Seefer tapped out another query and got a short, snapped reply. <em>Busy. Four days from now. Evening.</em></p><p>“It’ll do,” Vos said reluctantly. “We’ve got security testing to do in the meantime.”</p><p>“And Harry,” Seefer said firmly.</p><p>“And the Padawan,” Vos confirmed. “Really, I <em>promise</em> you that even Padawans can take care of themselves. We’re taken on missions for a reason.”</p><p>Seefer didn’t bother to respond to that one and Vos swiped the door back open. He seemed relaxed now, his body language open and easy as if their conversation had been about nothing more than casual interactions. “Can’t believe I made you miss the introductions from your new Commander,” Vos said. “Do you think he’ll run icebreakers? I’ve got some <em>great</em> suggestions if he needs them.”</p>
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<a name="section0033"><h2>33. Chapter 33</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>Harry sat patiently as the two adults checked over the last of their preparations. It had been a long few days to get everything ready but now, months after Teeks had been hurt, he was finally being allowed to help one of <em>his </em>troopers.</p><p>This was what he cared about, he thought. None of this lightsabre nonsense and stressing out about why the design he had picked still didn’t feel quite right. He’d spent so much time staring at the two crystals lying side-by-side and feeling like something was just missing but not knowing what. Every single one of the 304<sup>th</sup> and the 104<sup>th</sup> had spent time sitting next to him, trying to figure out what he needed but all it had resulted in was a vague feeling of frustration. Wolffe had seemed particularly disappointed at his failure and had nearly bombarded Harry with recordings of various Jedi lightsabres in actions as if that would make everything miraculously fit together.</p><p>Harry’s fingers twitched slightly, but Mirr-tan Eshki was occupied with ensuring various beeping machinery was hooked up correctly to Teeks. He didn’t quite dare to interrupt her.</p><p>The 104<sup>th</sup> situation was… odd. Boost and Sinker had ended up moving into the same dorm room – from an ‘efficiency perspective’. It was strange with them around, no one quite certain about what to say. Seefer had taken to tagging along to Harry’s own dorm room and inspecting the various plants scattered around with a very wary eye.</p><p>Boost, at least, was aggressively positive and <em>very</em> determined to settle in. He’d spent half of his time sourcing a variety of red paint and the other half wailing about how the shade wasn’t quite a perfect match when he painted out star-like bursts over his armour. Harry had been tempted to fix it but hadn’t quite managed to bring himself to do that just yet. Sinker was careful not to tread too much on Lucian’s toes and mostly occupied himself with winding Boost up. Wolffe was… Wolffe and busily reviewing Sen’s patrol schedules and shouting at various people to make sure their training was up to date and their kit had been as upgraded as it was possible to get it. Harry didn’t mind him, not really, but it <em>was</em> pretty funny to see him get wound up at the 304<sup>th</sup>’s particular blend of bland smiles and to-the-letter rule following hiding whatever particular thing they felt like obstructing at any point in time.</p><p>“Are you comfortable, Padawan?” Mirr-tan Eshki asked. It was strange to have the Healer fussing over him rather than having him forcibly removed from her infirmary, Harry thought. He kept the words back and nodded instead.</p><p>It had progressed faster than he’d hoped for. When he’d sat down next to Teeks, Plo Koon beside him he thought that he’d have to drag every last one of the Jedi over the line kicking and screaming. Master Koon had let him show him what he felt though, had watched as Harry had nudged the Force into place and had thought for long moments before agreeing that there did seem to be something Harry could do to help. With a Jedi Master – and a council member – behind him, Mirr-tan Eshki had given in eventually, insisting only on <em>precautions </em>and <em>shielding</em> and a promise to stop when he was told to.</p><p>There’d been a bit of time required to get the precautions insisted on set up – a separate room, used for surgical operations. Master Koon to shield them within a protective bubble so that Harry wouldn’t get distracted, could focus in on <em>what needed to be done</em>. Mirr-tan Eshki to <em>observe</em> because having two people trying to act would do more harm than good. And then insistence on him being well-fed, well-rested and ready to access the Force as needed. <em>That</em> had been a pain, especially when Lucian had pulled out his nutrition plan and the healer had hummed over it, making a few careful edits that were thoroughly incorporated.</p><p>(Harry was pretty certain Wolffe had made a copy of the manual and was probably studying it in his spare time for fun. The Commander was <em>crazy </em>and <em>crazily protective </em>on top of that.)</p><p>Cricket and Ricochet were both camped outside the room pretending that they enjoyed sitting around in random locations in the Jedi Temple. The 304<sup>th</sup> were somehow being enabled by Master Koon and Commander Wolffe in all of their stalking needs. Harry knew Seefer would have been there had Vos not dragged him away on some meeting with someone that Harry was not supposed to know about. He suspected it was Sha Chal and he regretted a little bit that he wasn’t allowed to go with Seefer. He pulled a face at the thought and then looked up expectantly.</p><p>“I can…?” he trailed off, gesturing with his hands. Mirr-tan Eshki held up a hand.</p><p>“Master Koon?” she asked expectantly and the Kel Dor gave off the strong impression of an encouraging smile behind his mask. There was a second and then it was like he’d had headphones dropped over his ears, suddenly everything appearing muffled and far away. If he pushed he thought he could still sense beyond it but – he shivered heavily. It was unpleasant. He’d got used to his sense of whether or not the 304<sup>th</sup> was alive and well. He didn’t like not having a glow of <em>Seefer</em> tucked away in his head.</p><p>Mirr-tan Eshki seemed to check something before nodding sharply in satisfaction, her wings ruffled tightly to her back. “<em>Carefully</em> now Padawan,” she said and Harry breathed in and out slowly. <em>Finally</em>.</p><p>He moved to sit by Teeks’ head and moved to rest his hands – one on Teeks’ forehead and one on his shoulder. From there it seemed the matter of a few long breaths to slip into that <em>conscious </em>state where the whole galaxy seemed to sing around him. He reached out the way Krell had taught him and let the rush of blood through Teeks’ vein orientate him.</p><p>It wasn’t… <em>seeing </em>precisely, but the pulses of electricity / pain / <em>other</em> had the distinctive tinge of red about it. It was like a shard of light had been caught up between mirrors, bouncing around nerve endings and prolonged by the <em>thing that didn’t belong</em>, the <em>other</em> embedded into Teeks’ brain. Harry let himself extend further, bleeding into what felt like every cell of Teeks until the sense of two-body sank into him, until Teeks was as much his hands and <em>him</em> as any other part.</p><p>The bouncing light could be diffused out, he saw that dimly – and he let little nudges guide it out of Teeks, bouncing through cells and expiring with the sound of screams out in the open air. The cells it had damaged in its wake remembered the way they were supposed to be and an open <em>please </em>and <em>question</em> to the Force burning its way through him had the cells knitting back together as if they had never been harmed. The central core around the <em>other </em>was harder, scorched almost beyond repair but even that yearned to be back the way it had been.</p><p>The <em>other</em> though, that had been there <em>so </em>long but it wasn’t right, it shouldn’t <em>be </em>there. Someone was saying something but it sounded like nothing more than a buzzing in his ears and he swatted at it distractedly. He had things to focus on!</p><p>He couldn’t remove it, he knew that – not without a route out and that risked too much damage with the recent repairs. It was interconnected though, interlinked with nerve channels and powered by tiny pulses of electric. Severing those ties was… possible but it felt like every breath risked throwing off the delicacy of the movement. Large was easy, he knew that – small was <em>not</em>. It was all just scale though and if he made <em>himself</em> small then…</p><p>There was <em>something</em> that twinged on the outskirts of his mind and for a second he almost allowed himself to be distracted. Was that – something had happened <em>outside</em>, one of the 304<sup>th</sup> but, no, he had to <em>focus </em>– Was it Seefer? – but no, one thing at a time –</p><p>He breathed and the first <em>snap</em> felt like it was shaking him to his bone. He checked Teeks’ mind in a sweep of paranoia – but no, it was right, this was the way forward. Each snap of connection felt like the break of a bone but Teeks’ body <em>sang</em> with the rightness of it and the Force around him felt like it was urging him on, that feeling of an encouraging hand on his shoulder.</p><p>The last severing had him panting but he knew he wasn’t done. The <em>thing</em> seemed to hang there in isolation now and Harry pressed it <em>in</em>, condensed it. He was scrambling something in it, making it unusable beyond just the connectors and he memorised the feel of it as he did so. There was something that felt triumphant in him as he did so and it almost felt there was a voice there, urging him on.</p><p>The outside buzzing grew louder but – the body was still around him and now he was looking there was more that wasn’t right. While he was here it made sense to fix it didn’t it? The way the cells divided… there was something if he looked closer and it just wasn’t – he couldn’t find the words but the Force had him breathe into his cells and breathe out of Teeks’ and it should be smooth but it <em>wasn’t</em>.</p><p>So – Teeks’ body couldn’t remember the way it was supposed to be but Harry’s body <em>could</em> so maybe if he just let it spill over…  The cells just had to <em>learn</em>, to slow down and <em>breathe</em> and Harry felt like there was gold sinking into him and spilling out, boiling and burning. It hurt, splitting his attention across so much but he just had to <em>push</em>-</p><p>(<em>“Padawan, that’s enough!”</em> both Mirr-tan Eshki and Plo Koon were saying, and Harry could feel Plo Koon on the edge of diving in after him but he needed him to just <em>be patient</em>)</p><p>-And <em>there</em>, like the turning of the tide, the changes rippling out. That was right. That was better. He let himself run a final scan through Teeks, nudging a bone to strengthen itself, nudging a scar to refresh itself –</p><p>And then he was blinking and everything burned. He took a shaking breath and all he could hear was his own heartbeat pulsing in his ears. His hands were shaking uncontrollably and someone was grasped onto him – there was something shoved into his mouth, a sugary liquid and it almost seemed like too much effort to drink. Arms were tucked around him and he let himself slump in exhaustion.</p><p>“Should never have allowed-“ the healer was snapping, and then, “We need a drip in him-”</p><p>And then there was Master Koon’s voice wrapping itself around him, pressing a word deep into his bones.</p><p>“<em>Sleep</em>,” he was told and Harry did as he was told with gratefulness.</p>
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<a name="section0034"><h2>34. Chapter 34</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>Seefer wasn’t particularly happy about how the timing had worked out. He’d wanted to be around for when Harry gave healing Teeks a go – but maybe it made sense this way, that he could chase up on any leads about this Sith while Harry was fully occupied somewhere else. He still grumbled about it as he packed up his kit carefully, checking the charge packs on his blaster.</p><p>The kit he was packing was drastically reduced from the standard 304<sup>th</sup> – although the standard 304<sup>th</sup> was not <em>quite</em> standard ‘trooper kit. Cricket had supplemented all of their packs with sonic grenades after finding out about their disorientating effect on Force users. The slugthrowers were more difficult to get hold of but there were a couple scattered through the squad – apparently molten metal could do at least <em>some</em> harm to an unwary Sith. Seefer hovered his hand over them briefly before sighing. Blaster, a couple of charge packs, spare blaster, and a vibroblade. He felt almost naked with so few weapons on him.</p><p>Wolffe scowled at him from where he was pretending to have a discussion with Sergeant Sinker. Seefer deliberately ignored him.</p><p>“Is one blade enough?” he demanded. “And you could use a few grenades in there too.”</p><p>“General Vos said I needed to be restrained,” Seefer said, and then remembered the “Sir,” belatedly.</p><p>“A few grenades is hardly not being restrained,” Wolffe grumbled. “Are you sure you can’t provide any information on this mission? I’m your commanding officer, I should be informed.”</p><p>Seefer shrugged. “General Vos said the transfer hasn’t been processed yet sir,” he said blandly. “Command chain means I can’t inform you.” That excuse had maybe another week at best though – Plo Koon was apparently quite thorough in his paperwork.</p><p>“What about Sen?” Wolffe demanded suspiciously.</p><p>“General said I wasn’t allowed to inform <em>anybody</em>, sir,” Seefer reported. He’d told Sen of course, but that wasn’t any of Wolffe’s business now, was it? That would be a violation of the command chain and Seefer had no interest in finding out whether Wolffe was just stuck-up about his own Jedi or whether it was all Jedi.</p><p>The growl Wolffe let out sounded distinctly like Wolffe was starting to get a 304<sup>th</sup> opinion of General Vos. Maybe it was just General Koon that Wolffe was a suck-up about.</p><p>…That said, Seefer couldn’t <em>really</em> find it in himself to dislike General Koon. The Kel Dor had an uncanny ability to both seem very interested in everything anyone had to say and mysteriously have things appear following those conversations. Sketch had found new carbons snuck into his bag for his drawings and Teejay had received an access-pass to watch the Core holonet Sabacc tournament. Boost seemed to have no issues bouncing over to the General ever so often to enthuse about the latest of whatever series he’d been watching and Lucian had been eyeing those conversations with a slightly envious eye.</p><p>Someone taking an interest in them didn’t really affect the whole <em>bred to be a slave army </em>thing, but – it helped more than Seefer had thought it would. That on top of the Jedi apparently genuinely not knowing about the clones before Geonosis… well, there was something highly suspicious about it all but perhaps not on the levels he’d let his thoughts wander to before.</p><p>Either way, these were hardly helpful thoughts for the moment.</p><p>“Good luck,” Ricochet nodded at him and Seefer nodded back.</p><p>“Make sure Harry doesn’t heal himself into a coma,” Seefer said dryly and Ricochet shrugged.</p><p>“We’ll try,” he said lightly. “You know the Commander though.”</p><p>Wolffe made a noise that could have been outrage and Seefer removed the last of his armour. He felt deeply uncomfortable in just his blacks but Vos had been firm – there was to be <em>no armour</em>. He strapped his blasters in and moved out. It was mid-afternoon so Harry should be just starting his healing, he thought. He hoped he was taking care.</p><p>“<em>Comm</em> if you need back up,” Wolffe snapped before he left. “And tell Vos that next time he needs to go through General Koon!”</p><p>“Sir,” Seefer waved off as he left. He’d inform Vos but he didn’t think it would have any effect from the way other Jedi talked about him with fond exasperation – or in the case of Windu, just open exasperation.</p><p>Vos didn’t seem much in the mood for talk, tilting Seefer’s head from side to side with those same black gloves on that he always had. There was some shadow smoothed onto his face to change the shape of his cheekbones and drops squeezed into his eyes to change the colour before Vos made a sound Seefer interpreted as ‘good enough’.</p><p>“There’s only so much we can do,” Vos grumbled. “We need your Mando able to recognise you.”</p><p>The civvies thrown at Seefer were uncomfortable – too loose in some places and too tight in others. He twisted from side to side briefly to get a view of his flexibility and grimaced a little. It’d do. He hadn’t thought he’d find himself missing his armour but he very much <em>did</em>.</p><p>“You know what we need out of her,” Vos said. “I can’t be too close but I’ll be waiting outside the district. We can’t get a line on you so <em>listen</em>, be careful and get out if you need to. I’ll have the speeder ready for extraction but I’ll need you to come running – we don’t have the luxury of me listening in.”</p><p>Seefer eyed him. “You seem stressed,” he said and Vos looked at him for a long moment.</p><p>“There’s been a few too many reports of ships landing without follow-on registration,” he said curtly. “And the landing officers not remembering anything about them. Could be smugglers.”</p><p>“Or could be <em>not</em> smugglers,” Seefer acknowledged.</p><p>“The Force has been… cloudy,” Vos said. “Whatever you can get, we need it. The name of the Mand’alor, anything about what they’re planning – but it’s only useful if we <em>get it</em>, so make sure you’re ready to cut and run.”</p><p>Seefer nodded grimly. He had his own list of priorities. He didn’t like this though; he hadn’t been trained for intelligence. He was the standard-issue clone. It felt like it would be better to have Cricket here but – sometimes that was the luck of the cards. They’d deal with what they had.</p><p>The warehouse district was a particularly grim area of Coruscant – and Seefer had spent enough time in the lower quarters to feel an authority on the matter. The top layers were fine enough, where the big technology companies shipped out of. As they went down though the thrum of life changed and the buzz of carts coming in and out of buildings were laden down with increasingly suspicious looking parcels. The warehouse that Sha Chal had specified was almost near the surface of the planet – so close that squinting down with a good set of lights might actually let you see the ground.</p><p>Vos clasped his shoulder briefly and Seefer hopped out of the speeder. He memorised the location carefully in case he needed to retreat rapidly to it. He didn’t like the change in venue. Something had to have spooked Sha Chal.</p><p>The warehouse was – much as he’d expected, high stacks of parcel on parcel and the irritating electric hum of droids floating to retrieve necessary packages. Sha Chal didn’t seem to be waiting, so Seefer took his time to set up in the most defensible spot he could find, with clear lines of sight for anyone approaching.</p><p>When she approached she was fully armoured and with a jetpack on her back. She looked – unhappy, the broad lines of her face drawn sharp and a tenseness around her dark eyes. “You wanted to talk,” she said flatly and Seefer took a breath.</p><p>“Yeah,” he said. He wasn’t sure how to broach the topic of <em>are you trying to kill my kid?</em> “I’ve heard – things,” he said vaguely.</p><p>“Things,” Sha Chal said flatly. “This isn’t about the IDs, is it?”</p><p>Seefer met her eyes. “I’ve heard <em>things</em> about you asking about human Padawans,” he responded. He felt like his blood was hammering in his ears and he bared his teeth at her. “Do you really think I wouldn’t come ask you about that?”</p><p>“Human Padawans,” Sha Chal said and closed her eyes briefly. “I guess it was too much to hope that we were being subtle.” She grimaced. “I <em>told </em>them we were moving too fast but they needed everything as soon as possible and to hell with the consequences.”</p><p>Seefer said nothing.</p><p>“Look,” she said. “I’ve not told them anything about your <em>ad</em>.”</p><p>“Why are they even <em>asking about him</em>?” Seefer demanded and Sha Chal made a noise of frustration.</p><p>“I <em>don’t know</em>,” she hissed. “The Mand’alor – he’s just throwing out everything we’ve been working for and I don’t understand what’s going on.”</p><p>“I thought Mandalorians didn’t hunt children,” Seefer snarled and Sha Chal snarled right back at him.</p><p>“We <em>don’t</em>,” she said. “<em>I </em>don’t. I just- I have a <em>duty</em>.”</p><p>“But your Mand’alor’s ignoring it?” Seefer said. “What, do you just keep nodding whenever you’re told to do something?”</p><p>Sha Chal sent him a scathing look. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “The Mand’alor has proven himself. If I doubt him, I’ll challenge him in a fight.”</p><p>“So everything’s alright then?” Seefer asked mockingly and Sha Chal let her eyes close slowly.</p><p>“He’s changed,” she said reluctantly. “It-”</p><p>“The Sith,” Seefer said and she made a face at him in agreement.</p><p>“I don’t know what’s happening there,” she admitted. “I don’t like it though.”</p><p>“I,” Seefer said, and then, “What’s a fair trade?” he asked. “This Sith – he’s after my <em>ad</em>, what’s a fair trade for your information on him?”</p><p>Sha Chal made a noise. “There’s no fair trade,” she said. “I don’t <em>have </em>any information. Vizsla landed a week ago, he had someone with a lightsabre tagging along and that’s <em>all </em>I know.”</p><p><em>Vizsla</em>, Seefer thought, registering the name – and the fact that both the supposed Mand’alor and the Sith were on the planet. That – would that be enough for Vos?</p><p>“What are they even after?” Seefer asked. “And when by? Can I get Harry off the planet?”</p><p>“I can tell you what they’re not after, and it’s the <em>dar’manda</em>,” Sha Chal snapped. “We have the woman in our reach and they’re obsessing over the <em>jetii </em>instead. That’s not what-”</p><p>She fell silent. There was a noise that wasn’t the incessant buzzing of drones. Seefer put his back against the wall and pulled his blaster out.</p><p>“Were you followed?” he whispered hoarsely and she waved him silent. She looked sickly pale underneath tan skin.</p><p>“I checked,” she breathed. “I swear, I checked.”</p><p>There was the crunch of an armoured boot. Seefer cast his gaze around – nowhere to hide, too kriffing far from the exit. He set his blaster sights on the edge of the shelves and prepared himself to fire. If some poor civilian got their heads blown off – well then, maybe they shouldn’t have been sneaking around warehouses. Sha Chal was poised beside him.</p><p>Seefer was firing as soon as a figure came into sight. They were on target as they always were – but the blasts were deflected. He swore, keeping his finger pressed on the trigger but- a flash of light and his blaster went scattering out of his hand. Seefer scrabbled for another weapon, his fingers clumsy against his holster.</p><p>There were three of them stood there, two in <em>beskar’gam</em>. One was unarmoured and <em>wrapped </em>in shadows. <em>Sith</em>, Seefer thought. <em>Voldemort</em>. His hand stung and spasmed with the aftershocks of whatever had hit him. This was not good, this was <em>not good</em>.</p><p>“Do you now betray us, Sha Chal?” one – it must be Vizsla – demanded. His voice echoed from behind his helmet and Seefer tried to back up subtly. Sha Chal was shaking her head, looking tense.</p><p>“Mand’alor, I would not have fired if I’d known it was you,” she said urgently. “I thought- I thought you were CorSec, I-”</p><p><em>Kriff</em>, Seefer thought. He tried to be subtle as he finally got his hand around his second blaster.</p><p>“You thought to have your treasonous conversations in private then?” Vizsla demanded.</p><p>“Not treasonous, n<em>ever</em>, Mand’alor,” she said fervently. “I’m – I’m loyal to the Mandalorians, to the Way. The- he’s a potential deserter – approached me for a route out. The clone’s been providing information.” There was strain in her voice as she tried to justify herself and Seefer had a nasty suspicion that her attempt would not prove successful.</p><p>“Then why have you not mentioned the clone before?” Vizsla snarled. He and his companions were continuing to advance and Seefer found his eyes resting on the unarmoured figure. Every time he tried to fix his eyes on the being they slipped away, leaving only the impression of <em>darkness</em>. “I find myself doubting your words Sha Chal – this <em>disappoints </em>me.”</p><p>“Mand’alor,” Sha protested. “I – he is how I gained information on the Temple layout, his brothers were killed by a rogue Jedi, I- I <em>swear</em> to you, I would do nothing to harm our cause.”</p><p>It wasn’t going to work. Seefer’s hand was tight around his back-up blaster and he wished he had his armour.</p><p>“Enough, Vizsla,” another voice interrupted – from the shadowed figure. It was smooth and deep, buttery rich and dripping with the same Concord Dawn accent as the Mand’alor spoke with. “However it came about, there is enough opportunity here.”</p><p>Pre Vizsla fell silent obediently and Seefer had a <em>very bad feeling</em>. The shadows loathe to give up their inhabitant – but Seefer felt the immediate shock of recognition when the figure detached itself, confirming his initial thoughts. Voldemort.</p><p>Seefer didn’t have to think for his blaster to be firing again. He could – he could – but no, the bolts were deflected harmlessly- his blaster leapt out of his hand <em>again-</em> </p><p>He dived forward, scrabbling for his vibroblade- and his body locked up into paralysis, coming crashing to the ground, muscles straining and screaming against nothing.</p><p>The adrenalin felt almost painful in his veins. He heard Sha Chal swear and then a pained sound, cutting out abruptly. He wanted to look but – he was stuck, staring at the ceiling, his eyes frozen. His fingers trembled slightly as he tried to force them to move. Nothing. He was – <em>helpless</em>, lying there. Something burned at the back of his eyes. At least – at least Vos would know something was wrong, he thought. At least Vos would know that he’d been killed.</p><p>The sound of footsteps seemed abnormally loud. Seefer’s muscles were cramping with the strain. There had to be <em>something</em>, he thought in frustration. Sonic grenades, but he’d come nearly <em>unarmed </em>to this kriffing meeting and if he survived he was going to <em>kick Vos’ head in</em>. The footsteps came to a stop a bare half metre away from him – he could grab his vibroblade, he <em>could - </em></p><p>“<em>Imperio</em>,” a cold voice said and everything seemed to drop away.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I missed the cliffhangers. 😊 Thanks for the comments on previous chapters - I appreciate every last one of them!</p>
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<a name="section0035"><h2>35. Chapter 35</h2></a>
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    <p>
  
</p><p>Seefer had been in the warehouse a while. Quinlan had his feet up on the dashboard of the speeder and was checking through his datapad messages rapidly. The Force was being frustrating murky over the past few weeks and he didn’t like it. The other Shadows had been saying the same – which when you relied as much as they did on their instincts and nudges from the Force was particularly worrying. It felt like the Jedi were being blinded. The only saving grace was the very thorough network that Master Tholme had set up over the past few decades, information continuing to trickle through even as the Force descended into more mutters than words.</p><p>There was an irritable request for information submitted by Commander Wolffe in his messages, Plo Koon copied in, and Quinlan deleted it without too much consideration. It might be worth trying to get Seefer reassigned to the Shadows – but no, he’d resent it and a resentful agent was worse than no agent. It might be worth investigating whether there were any likelies in the Coruscant Guard though. Disgruntled clone trooper wasn’t a <em>hard</em> sell to a lot of people out there.</p><p>There was finally movement from the front and Seefer was winding his way over. He looked – unharmed, good. Quinlan stowed his ‘pad and waited for the trooper to join him in his speeder. A quick glance showed nothing wrong, but a closer look with the Force and-</p><p>“Are you high?” Quinlan demanded incredulously. He grabbed Seefer by the chin and ignored the clone trying to bat at him. There was definitely <em>something</em> there because he didn’t think the clone had ever felt that unworriedly happy in all the time he’d encountered him. He was almost blissed out. He might have accepted it from one of the others but Seefer was perhaps the poster boy for grumpy overprotectiveness.</p><p>“I’ve not taken anything,” Seefer denied. “I’m normal.” His words were coming slowly, slurring slightly and Quinlan swore.</p><p>“You might not have <em>taken </em>anything but that doesn’t mean you weren’t <em>given </em>something.” Sithspit, did that mean that the Mando had clued onto who Seefer had been sent by?</p><p>“Did you find anything out?”</p><p>Seefer blinked slowly and it looked odd from disguised blue eyes rather than brown. The colouring should wear off in another few hours at least. “Mand’alor’s… on the planet,” he finally said slowly. “Vizsla.”</p><p>“Alright,” Quinlan breathed. He tapped a note to Tholme and sent it off before getting the speeder moving. “Anything else?”</p><p>Seefer looked to be struggling through his words, contemplating each one as if against a set of unwritten orders. “I don’t,” he said after a moment, and then shook his head.</p><p>“The Sith?” Quinlan asked and kept his eyes on the flight lanes. He almost <em>felt </em>Seefer’s flinch, a note of disquiet rolling through the happiness before disappearing again.</p><p>“Maybe,” Seefer hummed and Quinlan sighed.</p><p>“What in the Force were you slipped?” he asked rhetorically. He wasn’t a good enough Healer to look at clearing his system but – there was nothing urgent from the Force, so Seefer probably wasn’t dying.</p><p>“Working together,” Seefer finally said. “Sith and Death Watch.” He lapsed into silence then and Quinlan slanted his eyes over. It wasn’t cheering news but – at least they had something now. If the Mand’alor was on the planet then they’d really need to accelerate the security upgrades.</p><p>He thought mildly about continuing to press at the ‘trooper – but no, the happy hum from his mind suggested it wouldn’t be much use. Fine. “Let’s get you to the infirmary,” he said a little dryly. “I’d hate for your heart to stop from a surprise spice-overload.”</p><p>Seefer blinked at him dumbly and Quinlan managed to stifle a snort as he neatly landed. “It’s normal?” Seefer checked and Quinlan shook his head.</p><p>“C’mon,” he said. “Follow me.”</p><p>The infirmary was packed though and the Head Healer was particularly dismissive of any non-urgent cases. “We’ve just had the 97<sup>th</sup> in from Reskan and I’ve got more immediate surgeries than I can count,” she snapped and her wings flared at the both of them. She pressed a quick probe in to Seefer’s head and then waved it off. “Doesn’t seem like he’s on a system shut-down. Come back to me tomorrow if it’s not worn off.”</p><p>“Harry?” Seefer asked hopefully and the healer softened a little.</p><p>“He’s on bedrest after performing some <em>particularly foolish</em> exploits earlier today. Master Koon took him back to the dorms. Now if you <em>don’t mind,” </em>and even if they did mind, she’d already swept off to snap at how an apprentice was setting up the monitoring equipment.</p><p>Quinlan put a hand on Seefer’s shoulder. “Let’s get you back to the barracks,” he suggested lightly. At least there he’d have a couple of brothers to hand if anything started to go wrong. He smirked briefly at the thought of the Commander’s face when he dropped off a drugged-up trooper in his hands. Maybe this was better for everyone. He’d definitely have to check out the command lines for when the 304<sup>th</sup>’s transfer was finally put through though – he had a suspicion that he was going to start running into bureaucracy.</p><p>…</p><p>“Uh,” ’49 said at the sight of Seefer, still clad in tight civvies and looking part-drunk, escorted into their dorm room. Cricket blinked and looked over to Sen.</p><p>“Sir?” Sen asked in a voice that very politely requested clarification <em>right now</em>.</p><p>“Unfortunately it seems someone might have slipped him something,” Vos said cheerfully. Boost watched with wide eyes as if he couldn’t quite believe him. “He’s just a bit high, should be fine in the morning.” He patted Seefer on the shoulder and Seefer blinked at them all. “So, I’ll just leave him with you and if he starts to seize take him up to the infirmary. Healers say he probably won’t though.”</p><p>“<em>Sir,”</em> Sen said, and Vos beamed at them all.</p><p>“Good chat, we’ll catch up soon,” he said sunnily and disappeared out the door.</p><p>“What the <em>kriff</em>,” Boost said in disbelief. Sketch patted him lightly on the shoulder.</p><p>“Squadron rule,” Sen said mildly, eyes still fixed on the doorway. “We <em>strongly dislike </em>General Vos. Remember that, shiny.”</p><p>Cricket moved to nudge Seefer to his bed and Seefer looked at him. “I’ve got to,” he said vaguely and he even <em>sounded</em> a bit drunk.</p><p>“Think you’ve got to take a nap, <em>vod</em>,” Cricket said. “Your armour’s by your bed for when you wake.”</p><p>Seefer looked at them all thoughtfully and seemed to be calculating something in his head. Cricket decided to take a stab at it.</p><p>“Commander’s <em>fine</em>, just tired – all tucked up in his dorm with ’02 and Ricochet keeping an eye on him. Things apparently went well with Teeks, just need to wait for him to wake up now. There’s nothing for you to worry about.”</p><p>Seefer’s frown suggested that wasn’t quite true. He glanced around the room almost as if he was wondering if he could take them in a fight, and then obediently went to sit on his bed. “Okay,” he said. “Everything’s normal. I’m normal.”</p><p>Cricket blinked at that phrase – what was that about? Something from the Kaminoan’s lectures dredged up reminders of spice and paranoia, and he could see Sen reach the same conclusion.</p><p>“Sleep it off,” the lieutenant said. “We’ll keep an eye out and you can get bawled out by Wolffe tomorrow.”</p><p>Seefer nodded as if this were particularly reasonable and lay down on his bed.</p><p>He was gone in the morning but a quick check with Teejay suggested that he’d been acting normal and heading out on standard duties. Cricket assumed he was trying to avoid the lecture from Wolffe (who was, indeed, fairly annoyed at having missed his errant trooper) and he had enough to focus on himself, sauntering down to logistics with Sketch in tow. There was distinctive shouting coming from behind the quartermaster’s office door.</p><p>“We’ve got the 97<sup>th</sup> in hot, two weeks ahead of schedule, and then I wake up this morning and some kriffin’ <em>General Gaunt’s</em> gone and inserted his 377<sup>th</sup> into the system overnight without even a kriffin’ <em>by your leave</em>. What am I supposed to do with that, huh? You think we just magically have stocked rooms appearing when I’m not given any notice?”</p><p>Cricket raised an eyebrow and decided now was not the time to be pressing the quartermaster about his delivery of distinctly unapproved bullets for the slugthrowers. He retreated rapidly before Hake could drag him into what sounded a truly epic rant about the ineptness of various Generals and Commanders and <em>what was a quartermaster supposed to do?</em></p><p>Sketch tilted his head at him and Cricket spread his hands. “We’ll come back later,” he said and Sketch’s shoulders shook briefly.</p><p>He took a moment to think about next steps. Sketch waved briefly at him. “Patrol,” he said and Cricket nudged their shoulders together before he departed. Now, what could he do that was useful? Maybe go check on Seefer, he decided. Wolffe had been more than annoyed at finding out that their brother had casually decided to medically okay himself and go wandering off on duty that morning, but according to Teejay his words had been unslurred and he’d seemed back to normal. No harm in checking though.</p><p>He ran the patrol schedules through his HUD to pinpoint Seefer – something he shouldn’t <em>really</em> have access to, but if no one knew about it who was going to call him on it? A beep identified him as heading towards the Room of a Thousand Fountains which was possibly Cricket’s favourite place in the Temple. Once he’d tracked his <em>vod</em> down, he could probably spend some time camped out in the gardens, he thought with satisfaction. The Jedi here were pretty permissive about where they let the clones wander.</p><p>He was a little surprised to pass Plo Koon and Wolffe in deep conversation as he entered the chamber. General Koon gave him a serene nod and greeted him by name which was <em>still </em>a surprise, however often he’d done it before. Cricket had sourced what gossip he could about the General – none of it was bad which had left him more taken aback than he was willing to admit.</p><p>“Not causing trouble?” Wolffe demanded gruffly, and Cricket managed to hide his snigger.</p><p>“Never sir,” he said with complete innocence. “Have I been doing something to upset you? I thought I’ve been following the regs…” he injected a note of anxiety into his voice that he was fairly sure fooled no one. General Koon at least seemed to find it amusing.</p><p>Wolffe’s sigh was a noisy, frustrated thing and Cricket grinned in the security of his bucket. The silence from the two of them was expectant and he relented after a moment.</p><p>“I’m just tracking Seefer down, sir,” he said. “He should be around here somewhere.”</p><p>“I’ll join you,” Wolffe said immediately as Cricket half-suspected he would. “He should have got <em>medical sign-off</em> before he put himself back on duty, I had him excused for a reason.”</p><p>General Koon looked peaceably at the two of them. “Do you have a view on where he might be in the chambers, Cricket?” he asked, tucking his talons into his sleeves.</p><p>Cricket didn’t respond, too busy scanning the place for a moment – and there he was, moving like he had a mission. “Over there, sir,” he said, already heading toward him. General Koon frowned, the barest crinkle of his forehead.</p><p>“Are you sure?” he asked and Cricket turned to tilt his head towards the General.</p><p>“I,” he said, “It’s his armour, sir.” Seefer might not have gone for the most distinguishable markings in the 304<sup>th</sup> but they still identifiably his.</p><p>“I see,” General Koon said, but his voice sounded troubled. Wolffe didn’t bother with any of the uncertainty, instead hailing Seefer down with a sharp bark that had a few of the meditating Jedi glower at him. One – a Padawan maybe – fell a good few feet down from where they’d been hovering mid-air and seemed to give up, casting their arms out and staring at the ceiling in apparent despair.</p><p>Seefer at least stilled at the shout, turning to face the three of them. Cricket felt a little bad at setting an unexpected officer interrogation on him but not too bad – the stupid <em>di’kut</em> shouldn’t have gone wandering off this morning without checking in properly.</p><p>“Sir,” he said stiffly and Cricket saw the way Wolffe’s shoulders instinctively stiffened at the tone of voice. He was just <em>so easy</em>.</p><p>General Koon stopped the Commander before he could get going with an elegant gesture, instead peering down at Seefer with curiosity.</p><p>“Are you quite alright, trooper?” he enquired gently. “You feel – <em>off</em>.”</p><p>“I’m normal, sir,” Seefer said bluntly and the words tugged at Cricket’s memory. He’d said that the night before, hadn’t he?</p><p>General Koon moved a little closer and – he was genuinely troubled, Cricket realised. He flicked his eyes back up to Seefer and examined his <em>vod </em>more closely. He certainly <em>seemed </em>the same even if was acting a little oddly.</p><p>“I think it might be helpful for you to go to the infirmary,” General Koon said now and Cricket could see the way Wolffe did a double-take and moved closer.</p><p>“I’m normal, sir,” Seefer repeated. There was an edge of <em>something</em> to his voice.</p><p>“I must insist,” General Koon said firmly and Cricket was moving before he’d really processed the flash of the vibro-blade. General Koon flashed his hand up and then Cricket got his shoulder in for a full body-tackle, driving his fingers into Seefer’s wrist to make him drop the blade. Seefer bucked up, trying to throw him off – they were about matched in strength though -</p><p>“Woah, woah, woah <em>vod</em>,” Cricket gritted out, trying to pin Seefer down. Wolffe slammed down beside him to grab at Seefer’s shoulders and Cricket slid down to keep his legs still. Seefer let out a snarl and Wolffe slammed his head against the ground before yanking his bucket off.</p><p>“Stand <em>down</em> trooper,” Wolffe growled but it was like Seefer didn’t even process it, his eyes wide and blank.</p><p>“That… is not Seefer,” General Koon said. He dropped to a crouch beside them, reaching a hand out to brush his hair back. Seefer tried to bite at his wrist. “Something is influencing him.”</p><p>Did the General want to tell them something they <em>didn’t </em>know?</p><p>General Koon’s breathing slowed for a second and it was like something had thrown Seefer into carbonite. His muscles tensed and he <em>strained </em>but was unable to move. “His mind,” General Koon said and his voice sounded almost strained for the first time Cricket had heard. “The Sith has-”</p><p>He let his resting hand come up, talon tips on Seefer’s head as if they were to drive directly into his brain. Seefer’s eyes rolled back into his head and he let out a <em>noise</em> that was more animal than human.</p><p>“<em>There</em>,” General Koon said with a vicious kind of satisfaction. “He’s fighting back – between us –”</p><p>Seefer spasmed under their hold, once, twice, then almost as if he were having a seizure. Wolffe shoved his arm under his forehead to prevent him from slamming his head into the ground – a stark turnaround from just a minute earlier, Cricket thought sardonically.</p><p>He stilled after long moments and it felt like the only sounds were his pained sobs. There were other Jedi gathering around and Cricket wished they would just <em>leave</em>.</p><p>“General,” Seefer said hoarsely and Wolffe gestured at Cricket to keep him restrained. Seefer sounded <em>broken </em>though, and desperate. “He took my <em>mind, </em>he<em> took my mind</em>.”</p><p>“We have you,” General Koon said soothingly. Seefer leant his head into the General’s hand, tears streaking his face.</p><p>“The creche,” he choked out desperately. “The Mando – they’re wearing trooper armour, they’ve got overrides.” Wolffe swore and released his own hold to go for his comms. “There were bombs, <em>haran</em>, my <em>mind</em>, he told me to plant them and then to kill <em>my ad</em> and <em>I was going to.”</em></p><p>“Were they planted?” Wolffe said urgently. “The bombs, where are they?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Seefer said. “They’re – they’re there. At least two in the creche, some in the mess – I don’t know, it’s a blur, it’s just- it’s <em>gone</em>, like I wasn’t in my own <em>head</em>. The Sith’s here, with the Mando – I just – I don’t -”</p><p>Koon had his own comm going as Wolffe snapped out commands to the commanders on base. The alert was out now and lights were already beginning to flash for evacuation, a brutal violation of the normal piece of the fountains. The Jedi surrounding them were already beginning to move, lightsabres in hand. Cricket’s mind seized on a point.</p><p>“Helmets,” he said urgently. “Sir, if the Mando are wearing our armour – we need ID.”</p><p>Wolffe nodded sharply, snatching his own helmet off his head. “We’ve got infiltration in trooper armour,” he said over the comms. “All helmets off, treat helmeted troops as potential hostiles.”</p><p>The red flashing lights seemed so much brighter without his HUD in between him and them. Seefer was shaking desperately but now that he wasn’t restrained, was working his way back onto his feet.</p><p>“Harry,” he said. “He’s a target, the Sith – we need to –”</p><p>Cricket pressed the alert on his own comms – the one all the 304<sup>th</sup> recognised for <em>Sith</em>. The response from Sen confirmed the movement from the 304<sup>th</sup>. They’d <em>prepared </em>for this demagolka to return, he thought savagely. Evac first but then…</p><p>Seefer’s attempt at a grin was nothing more than a bearing of teeth, something desperately broken in his eyes. Cricket thought his own might be the same. <em>Merry, Blast</em> – too many names piling up. Wolffe’s eyes were sharp on them.</p><p>“Commander <em>first</em>,” he said and there was nothing reluctant about their salutes.</p><p>General Koon looked a little torn until he received confirmation that the creches were being evacuated. “The Padawan dorms,” he said firmly. “We’ll want them all out.”</p><p>The first explosion rang out – and then another and another. A full-body flinch swept through General Koon.</p><p>“<em>Now</em>,” he said firmly, and they <em>ran</em>.</p><p>…</p><p>A tall human entered the Archives, accompanied by several ‘troopers. He was an elegant man, even underneath a terribly disfiguring scar that stretched across one side of his face, bubbled and melted. He had a double-bladed lightsabre strapped to his leg and he moved as if he were the lord of all around him. Madame Nu raised one silver eyebrow from behind her desk. She didn’t recognise him even with his undeniable presence in the Force – although she could hardly be expected to recognise every Jedi by face.</p><p>“I trust you will be <em>quiet </em>within the Archives,” she said with light disapproval. There was something about him that set her on edge. “May I have your ID?”</p><p>When he spoke it was with a curious accent that she couldn’t place. “We’re here to retrieve the Philosopher’s Stone,” he said. “From the Council.”</p><p>It felt almost as though something <em>fuzzed</em> within her, a moment of seeing double. A frown crossed the man’s face and then it was like he focused on her more sharply. She blinked slowly – but no, there was nothing wrong was there?</p><p>“I am not familiar with the <em>Philosopher’s Stone</em>,” she said, sounding out the unfamiliar words with care.</p><p>“The Sith artifact,” the man said carelessly, and then, “You will lead us to it.”</p><p>Ah, of course, Madame Nu thought. She tapped a few notes onto the Archive data storage and nodded. “Your ID?” she queried and then that double-vision happened again, a roar in her mind. The man was saying something else but – no, no this wasn’t right. Jocasta Nu kept her face placid and sent a tendril of the Force to activate the panic alarm. When she moved out from behind the desk it was a smooth movement, her lightsabre hissing to life with a sharp <em>snap</em>.</p><p>“I’d thank you,” she said coldly, “To stay <em>out</em> of my mind young man.”</p><p>The troopers opened fire and in the distance there was the sound of a Temple-wide alert coming online.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So, in a little bit of head canon: I figure the Jedi's 'danger-sense' is based very strongly on the intent and emotion of the people around them. The imperius curse happens to make people feel happy and floaty - so not a threat! Vos can sense something's not quite right because he's used to Seefer being a grumpy ball of rage. Plo Koon's both familiar with Seefer and a Jedi Master so when he twigs that something doesn't feel right about Seefer's emotions (and without the potential excuse of 'might have been drugged in a dodgy warehouse by people I sent him to meet' - which I suspect Vos is relatively familiar with) he goes in to investigate.</p><p>(Had Harry been awake then he'd have obv. noticed the difference but tragically he is in a Force-prompted sleep following exhausting himself from healing.)</p><p>Next update is unlikely to be quite so quick.</p>
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<a name="section0036"><h2>36. Chapter 36</h2></a>
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</p><p>Harry jolted as an alarm screamed by his head. He felt – cored out, as if his extremities were fumbling with numbness, as if there was a great burning echo within him. He shivered and blinked blurrily. Ricochet was there, and ’49, both of them trying to nudge him to his feet and he went obediently.</p><p>“What’s going on?” he asked. He tried to reach out experimentally with the Force and flinched a little at the rawness of his senses. Maybe that wasn’t the best move. What had he been doing? “Teeks?” he checked worriedly, and Ricochet manhandled him out of the door.</p><p>“Teeks is recovering, sir,” ’49 said. “We need to evacuate – there’s a bomb warning.”</p><p>The two ‘troopers were listening to something on their comms even as they ushered him out. Harry fumbled to grab his blaster out. They joined the swarm of unassigned Padawans that were moving out, an eerie calmness about them. Ricochet swore suddenly and grabbed his helmet off.</p><p>“What-?” Harry asked and Ricochet glanced at him.</p><p>“Infiltrators,” he said succinctly. “If there’s anyone out there with their helmet still on, you shoot to kill, okay?”</p><p>Harry stared at him and swallowed slowly. It felt significant switching his blaster from stun to kill and he- this would be the first time he’d made the decision to go in with the intention to kill. And with their helmets on? Did that mean they were troopers?</p><p>“Death Watch,” Ricochet corrected, but that wasn’t much better. Was it – was it going to be Sha Chal under one of those helmets? Harry breathed in carefully. He’d only ever really had to fight droids – droids and Voldemort, and he counted neither of those as human.</p><p>“Do we have orders?” a pretty multi-tentacled Padawan chirruped in a voice that sounded like thunder. “Our evacuation point is Alpha-4-3 – does that still stand?”</p><p>Harry realised all the Padawans were staring at the troopers even as they continued to move in that steady flow out. No one seemed particularly concerned, although he could hear the pacing that one or two were matching their breathing to.</p><p>Ricochet looked trapped for a second before nodding sharply. “Evacuation protocol stands, sir,” he said. “We’ll accompany you.”</p><p>“Ricochet,” Harry said, worried. “What about the others? Will they meet us there?”</p><p>“General Koon’s heading over to join us,” Ricochet assured him. “Commander Wolffe, Seefer and Cricket are with him.” Harry could see the way the Padawans relaxed at the mention of the Jedi Master.</p><p>That didn’t answer the question about the <em>others</em> though – what was Sen doing, and Lucian, and Teejay and the rest of the 304<sup>th</sup>? Harry bit back his questions though, seeing the tenseness around Ricochet’s eyes. He didn’t like it; he was supposed to be with his squadron. This wasn’t <em>right</em>. He nudged at the Force within him and felt it move sluggishly, still gathering in to him.</p><p>“Hey,” Ricochet said quietly, moving in closer to him as they made their way down stairs. “We’ve got you.”</p><p>For a second, Harry felt like he was back on Eskilon-5, Sen’s voice serious – “<em>I hope you’re not suggesting that we leave you Commander</em>.” ’14 was there, and ’17 and they’d both <em>died</em> because they’d <em>had him</em>, because they <em>hadn’t left him</em>.</p><p>Harry let his hand drift grimly to where his wand was still tucked and after a moment, switched his blaster for it. “I have you too,” he said firmly. “<em>No one</em> dies.”</p><p>It seemed almost natural that that was the point the first bomb went off.</p><p>…</p><p>Jocasta Nu barely moved her lightsabre to deflect the blaster bolts, ignoring the sharp wail of sirens around her. She narrowed her eyes a little at the troopers accompanying this false Jedi – she would perhaps need to remove them from the fight lest she be unnecessarily distracted. She was finding it difficult to read their intent, however, their minds suffused with nothing more than the bubbling feel of happiness with none of the sharp rise of decision that normally accompanied combat.</p><p>She let the Force swell up within her, strengthening her senses and her grip. The false Sith did not look to be closing the gap, instead holding back with a faintly unpleasant looking smile playing around his broken face.</p><p><em>Well, then</em>, Jocasta Nu thought and <em>moved</em>.</p><p>Her lightsabre rebounded against a cascade of silvery light and she used the momentum to spin away again. Was that – some kind of shield? She spun her lightsabre to deflect the blaster bolts in the direction of the man and pursed her lips as they bounced off the shield as well. It looked to be some kind of <em>bubble</em> of Force made solid and <em>still </em>the man smiled from behind it.</p><p>The Force seemed to writhe around them, like a beast chained into surprising, unpleasant confines. Jocasta deflected another bolt backwards and did not bother to watch as one of the white-armoured figures fell with a choking sound.</p><p>She puzzled a little over the shield and leant back in a sharp move as a red bolt of light flew at her – a blaster bolt from this false Jedi? But no, it moved faster than a blaster bolt and the Force had been bound up in the light, <em>will </em>and <em>intent </em>condensed. There were more shots and Jocasta gestured sharply to send her desk flying into the ‘troopers. It crushed one against the wall, a poorly fitted helmet slipping off to reveal a distinctly non-clone face. False troopers as well. How in the Force had they even got into the Temple?</p><p>She had to abandon thought for a few seconds, immersing herself in the Force to deflect the shards at light flying at her –</p><p>-Another few bolts and a deflected poisonous yellow light had the last remaining ‘trooper collapse, still unerringly cheerful through waves of what felt to be unavoidable agony. Jocasta let her fear flow into the Force as she focused back on the final intruder.</p><p>He stood there still, the glowing bubble of light hovering between them. “They were less use than I’d hoped,” he said conversationally, in that careless voice.</p><p>“Competent help can be difficult to obtain,” Jocasta conceded lightly. Her own smile was a sharp little thing. She wondered how far the Sentinels were – they should have already been here, more than a minute after she’d reached out for the panic alarm.</p><p>“Indeed,” the man said and she flung herself behind him, swinging her lightsabre around in a beheading move-</p><p>-And was blasted backwards, barely catching herself into a flip. How was that possible? You didn’t – you couldn’t use the Force on other Force users, <em>everyone</em> knew that. She sent her desk skittering forward in an overarm throw and saw it batted aside with a careless wave of a hand, the hand not holding Krell’s lightsabre. He <em>dared</em> wield one of her fallen cousins’ lightsabres?</p><p>He was speaking again but she ignored him. She sent a pulse of her senses out – where <em>were </em>the Sentinels? – but no one was coming. So be it.</p><p>She let her lightsabre set a flurrying pace this time, seeing the shield flicker lightly with each blow – with sufficient force, perhaps – yes, she could send the chairs flinging at his back, <em>remember</em>, <em>know your environment</em>, she had told her padawans, <em>everything may be a weapon.</em></p><p>He was continuing his barrage of lights that screamed in the Force, promising <em>pain</em>, and <em>stun</em>, and <em>kill</em> and a variety of other whispering messages as she deflected them into the walls leaving scorch marks that would probably never be removed.</p><p>The Force cried a warning and she was leaping without thinking, the ground twisting and melting beneath her feet into quicksand. <em>How- </em>but it was not time to think of the hows, only to accept the now. Another deflection, and such a <em>shame </em>that Soresu had never been her favoured form, and then she was coming at him from above and readying her feet to twist off the wall-</p><p>So entwined was she in the Force that the first Jedi death sent her stumbling, the emotion<em>painfear</em> jabbing deep into her mind.</p><p>The explosions that rang out had the false Jedi laughing, a high, cruel sound. It was a – a youngling, too young to control their emotions, too young to go peacefully, and then <em>another</em> – and one, two, three, <em>four, </em>not younglings, Jedi, in another part of the Temple, and-</p><p>-His next bolt hit her full in the chest and her lightsabre dropped from spasming hands. It felt – it felt – like lightning, boiling along her veins, it <em>hurt</em>-</p><p>And he was standing over her, that shield of his dropped and if she could just <em>reach out-</em></p><p><em>“Legilimens</em>,” he murmured, and she <em>screamed </em>as her mind was forced open.</p><p>***</p><p>There was smoke billowing up and helmeted ‘troopers nearby and Seefer didn’t let himself hesitate over the trigger. They were turning with their own weapons in hand and then they were lying smoking on the ground and Wolffe was seizing their helmets off to nearly cry in relief when he saw blue skin underneath. General Koon looked unhappy at the use of lethal force but he said nothing, his own lightsabre casting a blue light over the corridor.</p><p>A troop of helmetless <em>vod’e </em>came around the corner, snapping into salutes that Wolffe waved off sharply.</p><p>“Incursion seems limited, sir,” one of the brothers reported. “There’s been a panic alarm over by the archives but the bombs brought down two of the corridors so no one can get through. Most of the younglings have been evacuated – Generals Windu and Billaba are managing their cover.”</p><p>“And the Padawans?” General Koon queried, and then gestured the troops to accompany them when they were greeted with headshakes.</p><p>“The archives, sir?” Wolffe queried, and General Koon shook his head tightly.</p><p>“Our priority must be the preservation of life,” he said. “The Sentinels will be dealing with the archives.” He said that as if trying to convince himself, before tapping his comm to check. A few buzzed words had him nod sharply. “They’re clearing the corridors. More people will prove a hindrance.”</p><p>Seefer was already fidgeting, desperate to move on ahead. He was determinedly not let his mind rest on what felt like open wounds deep inside, that felt like having been <em>cored</em> – most of the younglings had been evacuated, they’d said. Did that mean – no casualties? He couldn’t bring himself to hope that much but – he could dwell on that later, like he could dwell on the feeling of floating in happily oblivious bliss as someone <em>used his body as a puppet</em>.</p><p>General Koon was dissipating the smoke with efficient use of Force and they covered the distance quickly. Other Jedi joined them rapidly and the group swelled. He knew he didn’t imagine the way the relief broke over the group at the sight of the first Padawan braid – and there, behind them, Ricochet and ’49 looking wide-eyed and paranoid, collapsing into relief when they saw Cricket and Seefer. Tucked further back was Harry, clenching his stick <em>and kriff’s sake he really needed to build his lightsabre</em>.</p><p>He was alive though. They had time to work on that. He felt an instinct dig at him, a little bubble of blissful happiness rise up and – and <em>he’d wanted him to kill his ad</em>, <em>no</em>, he <em>crushed </em>that bubble until it didn’t dare come near him, and he was <em>so damn grateful</em> General Koon was watching him carefully, ready to – ready to stop him.</p><p>General Koon spread the group and Seefer was struck by the irreverent thought that this was possibly the deadliest troop he’d ever been in. The Jedi were grimly determined, down to the last Padawan and they moved with an efficient speed out. There was the faint sound of blaster fire in the distance that faded out, and reports coming through of intruders being flushed out and dealt with. He almost felt bad, wondering how many had actually wanted to be there but – no, he would have died happily rather than be used as a tool.</p><p>He dropped back to be beside Harry and felt him tap his knuckles against his armour. He had to swallow hard. <em>Still alive</em>.</p><p>And – <em>oh</em>, evacuation point Alpha-4-3 was one of the landing pads and the support corps already had the ships ready to go, Mace Windu standing there with his face as grim as Seefer had ever seen as the first ship lifted off with younglings inside, following the evacuation policy.</p><p>“Master Koon,” General Windu said tersely. “The Force is clouded. Your commander was the one who called the evacuation – do you have any additional information?”</p><p>Seefer felt the guilt churn in him even as General Koon began to speak. Harry looked up at him worriedly and he closed his eyes briefly before moving to salute in front of them. “Sith, sir,” he said. “Voldemort. Accompanied by Death Watch, led by Pre Vizsla.”</p><p>“This Sith seems able to… affect minds,” General Koon said. “<em>Without</em> leaving a trace of darkness. It is only detectable as a feeling of happiness.”</p><p>General Windu stared at him for a long moment. “…We will have to discuss this further,” he said. He sounded disturbed. “Our traditional methods of detection will not work on <em>happiness</em>.”</p><p>General Koon’s gesture to the smoke billowing out of the Temple was expressive and Windu inclined his head. “The Sentinels are still forcing their way to the Archives – we had to divert them at first to enable the evacuation.”</p><p>“By the time they reach it, it seems like this Sith will have obtained whatever he sought,” General Koon observed and Windu’s face closed off.</p><p>“Not all,” he said quietly, and his gaze rested on Harry. Seefer stiffened.</p><p>“It is good that Harry is unharmed,” General Koon said and there was a faint warning tone in his voice.</p><p>“And I would not put a Padawan at harm’s risk if it was unnecessary,” General Windu said. “But we cannot send a potential high-priority target for evacuation with our weakest points, you <em>know</em> that. I will not put other younglings at risk for the sake of <em>one</em>.”</p><p>Behind them the Padawans were beginning to move onto the shuttle.</p><p>“What are you proposing?” General Koon asked finally.</p><p>“Nothing more than he remain with you,” General Windu said briskly. “The Sentinels and I will comb the Temple and drive the Sith out. <em>We </em>will deal with him – this is nothing more than a precaution should he be able to trace your Padawan’s presence. If there is a fight, let it be far away from our most vulnerable.”</p><p>“As you say,” General Koon said. He did not sound quite as serene as he normally did. Wolffe was clearly calculating something to his side.</p><p>“Do we need to stay on planet?” he asked, a question directed at Plo Koon. “Or in the Temple?”</p><p>But there, over to the side – there was Harry staggering as if he’d taken a blow –</p><p>***</p><p>Sen motioned the 304<sup>th</sup> to the side as the Jedi floated the rubble out of the way with determined efficiency. There were a group of fifteen of them, growing by the moment, clearing the way.</p><p>“What are we going to do, sir?” Lucian breathed to his side and Sen flicked his eyes over the Jedi.</p><p>“What are the likely exit points for the Archives?” he asked. His hands were playing over his belt where four sonic grenades rested, the others just as piled up with every thing that they’d thought would have a remotely feasible chance of dropping a Force User.</p><p>“Main entrance here,” Lucian said. “Side entrance off by the meditation rooms – there’s a squadron stationed there and Sentinels already moving in.”</p><p>“Nothing else?”</p><p>“No – and the deep Archives only have the one exit.”</p><p><em>Where would the Sith be? </em>Sen wondered. He cast an eye over the Jedi. “Seems like our best bet for an encounter is to stick with the Generals,” he murmured and Lucian nodded sharply, fading back to inform the rest of the group. Sen didn’t like that they were missing so many – Seefer and Cricket and Ricochet and ’49 – but Sinker was with them, and so was Boost. Sixteen. They could manage.</p><p>There was space clear now and the Jedi were leaping through, yellow lightsabres lit in unison. A crackle of the comms indicated that General Windu would be joining them shortly and Sen gestured his men onwards, clambering over the rubble at speed and following into the Archives.</p><p>There were three armoured figures thrown across the floor and then just a little further on, an old looking woman, her lightsabre dropped beside her. There were clear signs of a fight and Sen touched his shoulder briefly in a sign of respect as he passed her corpse, shouldering his blaster more carefully.</p><p>The Sentinels were more or less ignoring the troopers now as they passed through the multi-layers of security protecting the deep Archives that had been left smoking in the wake of Voldemort. Ten heavy blast doors had been forced open and beyond them the passageway dropped <em>down </em>abruptly.</p><p>One of the Sentinels was instructing the others on the search pattern and Lucian tilted an eyebrow at Sen. He considered staying put for a second – it wasn’t <em>impossible </em>that the Sith would come back up this way – but then he remembered the way the man had been able to vanish with a crack. No, they wouldn’t risk it. Instinct had him picking the left corridor, following the commander of the Sentinels and his partner. He seemed like he would be the one to check on where the artifact was actually kept.</p><p>It seemed instinct was correct as they came across disarmed trap after disarmed trap, doors continually left open. The Sentinel comm’d his partners to call more in his direction.</p><p>And there – ahead of them, a single figure with his head tilted back, swallowing something with a red stone pressed to his lips. <em>Voldemort</em>.</p><p>The two Sentinels cleared the gap in the matter of milliseconds, their lightsabres raised and Sen bit back a curse – Jedi were probably <em>not</em> acceptable collateral damage. His squad were sensible enough to match him, raising their blasters instead of their grenades – and there was Sketch with the few slug rounds they’d managed to gather, the <em>bang</em> of the slugthrower as it propelled shards of metal forward almost absurdly loud.</p><p>The Sith drew a hand across his lips and tucked the red stone into a pouch by his belt with languid moves. His lightsabre was in his hand and he used it to sweep a round circle, a cascade of light springing from it and the Sentinels barely dodged, leaping into the air-</p><p>The blaster bolts were reflected against a silvery shield and the slug pinged loudly, dropping down-</p><p>There was – a presence there with them, now, a panicked feeling reaching out to check they were okay and – Sen wondered briefly, <em>Harry</em>?</p><p>He had no time to think it over though as the Sentinels were flung backwards, hitting a wall with a sickening crunch – but leaving the space open for-</p><p>-And yes, he wasn’t the only one throwing his grenade, the Sith deflecting most, the explosions lapping harmlessly at his shields but the sonics – <em>yes</em>, that sent him staggering and the shield <em>flickered</em>-</p><p>They were firing again, but then there were flames rushing forward, a dragon’s <em>maw </em>open wide- Sen flung himself wide but behind him there were cries –</p><p>Bolts of light were coming through and they were throwing more grenades, they were <em>out</em>, was the ceiling going to come down? But no, it was holding firm <em>somehow</em> and the Sith was shouting something now, strange, foreign words-</p><p>***</p><p>Harry didn’t know how he was watching, just following gold strands out of his mind, tangles of traces that he’d kept over the 304<sup>th</sup> because they were <em>his</em> but there was Voldemort and there were <em>his troopers</em>, this <em>wasn’t okay</em>. He’d told Ricochet <em>no one dies</em> and he’d meant it, damnit-</p><p><em>Is this your home? </em>a thought bubbled up, and he didn’t think it came from him. It seemed – irrelevant, so he swatted it away, trying to use the Force to <em>shove</em> from – was he in Sen’s mind? -</p><p><em>Is this your home? </em>the thought came back again and suddenly it was Krell’s voice speaking in his ear. <em>The Jedi have been my family for fifty years. We Force Users are a breed apart and the Temple is the Force’s refuge from the corruption of those not worthy to wield it.</em></p><p>And then it was a woman’s voice, gentle and warm. <em>Oh baby, your father and I love you so much</em>, she murmured. <em>I hope that you’ll always have a home to keep you safe and people to love you. This war takes so much from us all.</em></p><p><em>Is this your home? </em>the thought pushed insistently and there was blood trickling from his nose.</p><p>Was the Jedi temple his home? <em>No, </em>he thought. It wasn’t. The only home he’d found since he’d come here was with the 304<sup>th</sup>. <em>They </em>were his home.</p><p><em>What about Master Koon? </em>Krell’s voice pushed insistently. <em>The clones cannot be kin to a Force wielder, but I am willing to settle for a council master.</em></p><p>Plo Koon was – <em>yes, maybe</em>, he could be but he wasn’t – his head felt fuzzy but he could still see Plo Koon hovering over him now, Plo Koon who’d let him sit with Teeks, who’d taken the time to learn the names of the 304<sup>th</sup> and talked to them solemnly, who gave him a <em>choice</em> –</p><p><em>The 304<sup>th</sup> and the 104<sup>th</sup> and Plo Koon</em>, he managed to think. <em>They’re my home. Not the temple. Not a place.</em></p><p><em>That’s good, baby, </em>the woman’s voice said soothingly. <em>You’re doing well. Remember they’re all your family, your home – you have to always remember that. </em></p><p>Harry blinked an affirmative and the thought was back now, a statement, <em>this is your home</em>, and there was a light within him, burning him up from inside out, boiling, spilling over-</p><p>-And Lucian was lunging forward at Voldemort, a snarl on his face, unarmed, blood streaked over him, but just trying to <em>bring Voldemort down-</em></p><p>-And then the light was spilling out of Lucian’s hands and over Voldemort and he was twisting, burning-</p><p>-and Voldemort was shoving back, a dark red light pulsing around him, the Philosopher’s Stone casting a flickering out across all of them-</p><p>-And there was chaos, and Voldemort was screaming his fury, darkness rushing out and encompassing them all-</p><p>-And then they were left with nothing but blood and corpses and lingering <em>crack </em>of apparition, and it all just felt horribly similar to Eskilon-5. Harry wanted to cry.</p><p>***</p><p>“Thank you for the information, Master Windu,” Chancellor Palpatine said, his face drawn into careful lines of worry. “The Guard has been dispatched – are you sure there is nothing else we may support the Jedi with?”</p><p>Master Windu demurred politely, his eyes already distant on whatever task he had to attend to next and the Chancellor finished the call with little more than the standard courtesies. He ended the channel with a delicate press of one finger and gestured his aides to action.</p><p>It was only when he was truly alone, without the hint of electronic tracers around, that he let the snarl cross his face.</p><p>“Darth Voldemort,” he hissed to himself, lingering over the name. Another who <em>dared</em> claim to be Sith in <em>his</em> place, in <em>his </em>territory. Another who thought to interfere in his carefully laid plans, the game of djarik he’d had laid out for <em>decades</em>…</p><p>This usurper would regret his actions, he would make sure of it.</p>
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<a name="section0037"><h2>37. Chapter 37</h2></a>
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</p><p>Lord Voldemort was displeased.</p><p>The Philosopher’s Stone hummed in his hands as he passed it between long fingers. It seemed to writhe under his touch, a living beast, and he wondered again what stroke of inspiration had struck for Flamel to design the thing in the first place. Alchemy had never been his mastery – it seemed an oversight now.</p><p>He was in one of the filthy muggle <em>hotels</em> some thousand miles away from the Jedi Temple. At his first retreat, he’d apparated to the Mandalorian den – but within hours that had been raided by white-armoured soldiers, led by Jedi on the warpath. He’d been forced to retreat again, leaving behind the few Mandalorians he’d kept as unfit for the initial assault – worthless distraction though they’d proven.</p><p>These Jedi… they were no wizards, no true opposition to him, yet in enough force…</p><p>His mouth twisted in distaste.</p><p>As if that had not been enough, he’d seen his own face broadcast across Coruscant, blocky, unfamiliar letters scrolling across the screens. Lord Voldemort had been hunted before, though, and it was the matter of moments to bend the creatures’ minds to his will and secure another spot to brood peacefully.</p><p>Six months. Six months he’d been in this pit of a galaxy after tearing his way through that fool Krell’s corpse. Nine since Potter had woken up in the streets of Christophsis, leaving him tucked away in his mind sniffing opportunity that came with the foolish thing's extension of a bond, a <em>route</em> out, welcomed in by seeds of darkness-</p><p>(oh, but what a feeling that had been, the moment the creature’s determination had turned to agonising fear, then the pain cascading through him. He’d had few enough chances to enjoy himself since he’d found himself cornered within the infant Potter’s mind, trapped by agonising shields of light.)</p><p>And then – the first mouthful of the Elixir, the wounds that he’d spent decades foolishly inflicting on himself, the tears in his soul repairing themselves and reclaiming every last drop in the galaxy, the body younger and stronger than he could ever remember…</p><p>-Only to be ripped away by the idiocy in striking before gathering sufficient information, drunk on the feeling of his soul empowering his magic once again. His mouth twisted sourly at the memory of that burning light, of his flesh rippling. He’d see that repaid a hundred-fold. And then to realise he was <em>trapped</em> on that filthy, humid moon, no one even to rip apart and take the information from, trying to stop his flesh from rotting away from the bone, subsisting on his own magic-</p><p>Repaid <em>a hundred-fold</em>, he thought again, baring his teeth.</p><p>His time there had not been without its purpose though. Magic had <em>changed</em> from when he’d ruled as Lord Voldemort the first time. Gone was its mindlessness obedience, to be neatly channelled through a wand, repurposing the world around him. Now it had to be brought to heel, to be wrestled into submission – and when it was cowering in submission, it left him more powerful than he’d ever been. <em>Imperius</em> sprang to his mind and lips, bodies tugged into place at his whim, and so much <em>energy</em> to be used. Oh, this new magic fought him still, his transfigurations lasting bare minutes instead of years and all the time the feeling of something screaming in his head-</p><p>-But what of it? Transfiguration had little enough purpose when you had minds to be moulded into obedience, bodies to set alight with <em>Cruciatius</em>.  </p><p>The Mandalorians had been a stroke of luck, arrogant armour-clad beings thinking to demand information of <em>Lord Voldemort</em>, and he’d had them begging before he allowed them the bliss of <em>Imperius</em>. When they’d served their purpose in escorting them to their Master, he’d torn their minds apart to seize the language, their knowledge – and it had in turn been put to good use when he had their Mand’alor kneeling at his feet.</p><p>(and how Pre Vizsla had raged beneath his curse, desperate to escape – once he’d nearly managed it, a knife clenched in his hand, and Lord Voldemort had made him turn that knife on his own kinsman in punishment.)</p><p>Carefully applied <em>legilimens</em> had given him the information he’d needed, pointed him in the direction of those beings that wielded their swords of lights, those inferior wizards that called themselves Jedi. He hadn’t had to seize the minds of all of the Mandalorians, the Death Watch all too eager to obey their Mand’alor’s bidding – and how convenient it had been that they hated the Jedi without his intervention. It was easy enough to stir a war beneath their minds and those that had thought to protest were managed well enough with <em>imperius </em>– or in some cases, with a rapid relocation to outside an airlock.</p><p>It was a shame, perhaps, that he’d spent those resources on the Jedi assault, but – he looked at the Philosopher’s Stone again and smiled, his displeasure slowly seeping away. Muggles for eternal life, for his body repaired once again and his magic whole and unharmed. It was hardly an equivalent trade. Allies were easy enough to come by when you were the master of their will.</p><p>He wondered briefly if the copy seized early on, the <em>clone</em>, had managed to take his blaster to Potter’s head – but no, likely not. That had been a half-hearted hope, an add-on to his primary purpose of distraction.</p><p>The assault had not gone quite as smoothly as he had planned, of course. Battles never did. He looked down at the newly healed flesh covering his arms and chest and shook his head again. How <em>had</em> that muggle copy brought that light to burn against him again? He’d have to be more aware in future. More cautious. There was much in this new world – new galaxy – that he knew little of. So many of his talents had been rendered useless, his apparition powerful enough to take him across a planet but not nearly enough to take him <em>off</em> planet, his knowledge of pureblood folly granting him no allies, no wealth to his name…</p><p>-And yet, all he saw was opportunities. So many millions and millions of magic-blind fools to lose himself in, wars spanning the galaxy that he had no need to involve himself in, a corrupt and bloated Senate incapable of making decisions. It was wealth enough. Were it not that his prophesised foe had come with him he would revel in what awaited him. He would have an entire galaxy kneeling to him when he was done – and an eternal life to rule them in.</p><p>Were it not for his prophesised foe.</p><p>Harry Potter was a child yet though and children did die so easily. He would have to trace him again, to reach out to those contacts that the Mandalorians had used previously, but in time-</p><p>The Philosopher’s Stone caught in the light, a beautiful ruby red, and Voldemort smiled.</p>
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<a name="section0038"><h2>38. Chapter 38</h2></a>
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</p><p>The infirmary was full again.</p><p>Harry sat beside Lucian’s bed, using the Force to delicately nudge at the burns on his hands. The sergeant was awake and watching the flesh knit together with a curious expression on his face – one that dropped into a reassuring grin when Harry glanced up to check with him.</p><p>“Doesn’t hurt,” he assured Harry. “It’s just – odd.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “Although weren’t you told not to do any more healing?”</p><p>“He was,” Cricket confirmed, nudging in beside him. Harry glowered a little.</p><p>“It’s nothing big,” he protested. He couldn’t stop the glance back to where the others were. The healers had said that the Temple had got off remarkably lightly; less than twenty dead Jedi, perhaps twice that in ‘troopers. There were plenty of casualties to go alongside that but there was a general undercurrent of how much <em>worse</em> it could have been.</p><p>Harry wished that he could be grateful for that but it seemed that once again the 304<sup>th</sup> had been there to take the brunt of it – or go running headfirst at it, from what he’d managed to find out. There’d been an attitude of grim triumph among the survivors though – <em>they’d </em>made Voldemort run when the Jedi hadn’t. Harry wasn’t sure it was worth ’03 and ’56 and ’62 and–</p><p>But most of the 304<sup>th</sup> still survived and when he thought back to Eskilon-5 he knew that they were lucky to have anyone here, no matter how it felt to have people missing in his senses again. Twelve surviving members of the 304<sup>th</sup> – and him.</p><p>Sinker was still hovering near Boost who was down with a concussion and Sen had ruptured eardrums from being too close to the sonic grenades. Teejay was cowering from a medical droid after trying to argue that a few open burns shouldn’t stop him from being discharged. Ricks was looking remarkably sanguine about missing a couple of fingers and was instead researching on a datapad what prosthetic upgrades he could get to replace them. The other survivors were back out on clean-up duty – except for Seefer who’d been pulled aside by a mind-healer to try and examine what they could from the Sith presence. Wolffe had gone with him, looking ready to murder.</p><p>“Big or not, I expect my instructions to be followed in my healing ward young man,” a Jedi voice said firmly, interrupting his thoughts, and Harry sent an accusatory look at Lucian before turning to try and justify himself. He didn’t get far although he did get a few sympathetic looks when he retreated in disgrace, Cricket trailing behind him with an entertained grin.</p><p>“I could have <em>helped</em>,” he muttered and Cricket prodded him in the shoulder.</p><p>“And you’re not dizzy in the slightest?” he was asked sceptically and – well, okay, maybe he was a little light-headed, but -!</p><p>“Thought so,” Cricket said. “It’s no use to anyone if you end up fainting and taking up a bed yourself.”</p><p>Harry made a grumbling sound, unable to bring himself to outright agree. “Where are we going?” he asked. Cricket was being very careful to keep them in corridors with plenty of other Jedi around, all of them looking grim-faced and busy as they continued both the clear up and what looked to be a detailed check for any potential nasty surprises. There were no younglings or Initiates present, although there were a few Padawans trailing behind their Masters all just as intent as the elders.</p><p>“General Koon’s nearly finished at the Council,” Cricket said. “We’ll wait for him outside the Council room.”</p><p>Harry nodded in acknowledgement. He could feel the tangled little line that led to Master Koon now, like a web of white lights that connected him to <em>home</em> and it felt – odd, to have that kind of intimacy. Odd but reassuring, he supposed. Master Koon was a peaceful presence to have around, never forceful or overwhelming, just- He didn’t really have the words for it.</p><p>Cricket chose to bring them to a stop a little way before the Inner Temple, in easy sight of the Sentinels bristling at the door. “Not sure our clearance covers actually going <em>in </em>there,” he said to Harry. Harry let his eyes go a little unfocused, tracing that line out to Master Koon-</p><p>“He’ll be out a minute,” he said, not sure what to feel at the nudge of reassurance that had been sent along with the message. Master Krell had never been so deep within his shields but it felt like Master Koon was now securely embedded – and that he was there because <em>Harry</em> had put him there.</p><p>Cricket nodded as if telepathic communication was an everyday thing now.</p><p>“Do you think that the mind-healers will be finished with Seefer soon?” Harry asked a little hesitantly. He didn’t particularly like having the squad out of his sight. It seemed like they were too keen to get themselves into trouble when he wasn’t there.</p><p>“We can ask General Koon,” Cricket said. He sounded deliberately casual although Harry could tell there was a tenseness underneath him. “I’m sure they’ll release him soon enough.”</p><p>“Commander Wolffe’s with him at least,” Harry said, more to reassure himself. He chewed on his lip before reaching out again through the tangled lines to <em>Seefer</em> who was feeling – angry and guilty and determined but not <em>afraid</em>, and the Jedi who was with him reared back in surprise at having another presence suddenly join them. Harry retreated quickly before anyone could say anything and blinked to see Master Koon standing in front of them.</p><p>“Back with us, Padawan?” he asked and Harry gave a slightly sheepish smile.</p><p>“The Commander was just wondering about Seefer, sir,” Cricket said. He seemed more relaxed around Plo Koon now which was good to see – and it certainly seemed to please the Kel Dor, a little head tilt that Harry was coming to recognise as how he expressed happiness.</p><p>“Of course,” Master Koon said lightly. “I believe the healers will have learnt all that they can shortly – they’re really looking to see if there are indications left behind to show that someone <em>has </em>been affected by this technique at this point.”</p><p>Cricket’s eyes were narrowed at that. “For the Death Watch, sir?” he asked, and Master Koon hummed meditatively.</p><p>“There is some difference of opinion within the Council how we should be dealing with those who survived,” he said.</p><p>“Aren’t they a terrorist organisation?”</p><p>“Ah,” Master Koon said. “But they were declared so by a system that has declared neutrality and so the Republic’s sway seems somewhat more… nominal. Were they from a terrorist organisation within the Republic, we could certainly hand them over to the Guard. Were they complicit in their actions, we could again hand them over to the Guard. However, as it stands,” his shrug was explicit. “We know that a Sith Lord capable of controlling minds – to a certain extent – took control of an independent organisation outside of the Republic’s governance and used them in an assault on the Jedi.”</p><p>“If they were being controlled, shouldn’t we let them go free?” Harry asked, a frown on his face. He thought of Sha Chal pushing hot chocolate at him, sharp and defiant in her discussions with Seefer.</p><p>“Perhaps so,” Master Koon said. “However, the Jedi have an unpleasant past with the Death Watch and we <em>do </em>have reason to believe that they are a terrorist organisation, so there is some unwillingness to do so.”</p><p>“Difference of opinion,” Cricket snorted, and Master Koon inclined his head.</p><p>“Just so,” he said and there was a faint note of amusement in his emotions. “The Council has never been the quickest to reach decisions – although I suppose this has seen some change over the past year.” The amusement faded slightly into a note of sadness before being dismissed and Harry watched it thoughtfully.</p><p>“Does the Council normally sit here?” Harry asked and Master Koon wiggled a hand from side to side even as he began to walk. He set an easy pace for Harry to keep up with, and Cricket fell back a step to keep scanning the hallways.</p><p>“Normally, yes,” he said. “Not since the war has begun though – almost all of our Council members have been called to act as Generals. Most of our meetings are now virtual which does not have quite the same impact as it did previously.”</p><p>Harry nodded and glanced back at Cricket. He didn’t like having him walking behind but Cricket shook his head in silent response. Master Koon watched this without comment.</p><p>Ahead of them, two troopers were assisting a Padawan in moving rubble – she was floating it into the air, and they were directing it into piles for the droids to move later. “I imagine the healers have said that you are to rest rather than use the Force further,” Master Koon said mildly, seeing where Harry’s eyes had drifted. Cricket snickered.</p><p>“I feel fine,” Harry said mulishly and Master Koon’s head tilt shared the joke between him and Cricket.</p><p>“And yet there is no harm in knowing your own limitations,” Master Koon said in an echo of Cricket’s early comments. Cricket felt highly smug at that. “Perhaps we might meditate together – I understand that you’ve been having some trouble with your lightsabre.”</p><p>Harry grimaced a little at the mention of his as-yet theoretical lightsabre. Several of the ‘troopers had been making comments about it, ’02 going as far as to retrieve the crystals and slip them into his pockets at unsuspecting moments.</p><p>“It’s not just the lightsabre you want to meditate over though,” Harry said slowly, and then blinked and revised it. “Master.”</p><p>Plo Koon tugged at that string of light gently in his head, an oddly resonant feeling. “<em>This</em>,” he said gently, “Is our training bond – and yet, it is different.”</p><p>“The shield,” Harry acknowledged and then, “And the others.”</p><p>“Yes,” Master Koon said. “I am curious how you’ve established bonds with non-Force sensitives.”</p><p>Harry could feel Cricket’s sharp attention at that. He shrugged at him.</p><p>“I – didn’t mean to force it on you,” he said quietly. “It was just – it was the only way to protect you. The,” and he lapsed back into English here, “<em>protection</em> is based around home, but I don’t – it’s not really a place.”</p><p>“This was not something that you did then?”</p><p>“I – don’t know,” Harry said. “I think,” and he stopped, trying to put his own thoughts in order. “I think that my mum did it for me,” he said finally. “She died when I was a baby, trying to stop Voldemort. I heard her voice.” He paused over the next piece, not sure if he wanted Cricket to hear it. “Hers and Master Krell’s,” he said reluctantly.</p><p>Master Koon considered this carefully. “It is not unheard of for people to leave echoes in the Force,” he said after a moment.</p><p>“Sure,” Harry said, a little absentmindedly. “Our history teacher was a ghost. This wasn’t like that though.”</p><p>“What,” Cricket said flatly behind them and Harry blinked back at him.</p><p>“What?” he asked and Cricket gestured. Master Koon stared pointedly at the space beside Harry and Cricket groaned before moving up to join them.</p><p>“Not good security,” he said flatly to Master Koon who seemed placidly amused at that. “But no – your history teacher was a <em>ghost</em>?”</p><p>“Professor Binns,” Harry said – but oh, that <em>was</em> pretty weird, wasn’t it? He’d forgotten how strange that had seemed. “He died when he was teaching and then just forgot he didn’t have to come into work the next day. He was at Hogwarts for – I dunno, a couple of decades before he died?” He shrugged. “Nearly Headless Nick died a few centuries before him and he still hung around.”</p><p>“Your school was kriffing <em>weird</em>,” Cricket said flatly and Harry grinned.</p><p>“But <em>amazing</em>,” he said and he couldn’t stop the glow of warmth that remembered – that first glimpse on the boats propelling themselves across the lake, an enormous castle towering above them-</p><p>He thought for a second and then wound himself around those two strings of lights, <em>projecting</em> the memory, the sun setting across the horizon and the lights cascading down on them.</p><p>“<em>Oh</em>,” Cricket breathed and Master Koon felt – happy? – around them. He took it a step forward, the house ghosts floating through the walls and then had to stop, rubbing a little at the headache forming over his eye.</p><p>“A nexus,” Master Koon said quietly. “Your temple – your school was on a nexus in the Force.” He sounded a little dazed.</p><p>Harry stilled for a second, the happiness souring slightly. “Was,” he agreed after a moment. He didn’t want to talk about it but – he had to, didn’t he? “It – was very different, how we used <em>magic</em>. The Force.”</p><p>“Will you talk to me of it?” Master Koon asked gently and Harry sighed.</p><p>“Yes,” he said. He thought of Seefer and Sen – but no, Seefer was occupied and Sen was still in the infirmary. “The 104<sup>th</sup> should be there too,” he said. “Too many stories to tell otherwise.”</p><p>Cricket bumped his shoulder and Harry nodded a little tightly.</p><p>“I don’t know if anything is left,” Harry said after a few moments had passed in silence. “I’m pretty sure of the system it was in though.”</p><p>Master Koon must have noticed the past tense, but he stayed silent, allowing Harry the time to think through what he was saying.</p><p>“It was – a long time ago,” he said and then frowned, thinking of Hermione and Dean – how did that work, when they must be long dead? They were touchpoints between times but – that didn’t make <em>sense</em> because did that meant that the past was <em>still happening</em> or that they were coexisting, or- how could <em>he </em>affect what was going on <em>then</em>?</p><p>“Sometimes I have dreams of what happened,” he said with a frown. “Of my friends. They helped guide me to my crystals.”</p><p>“A vision?” Master Koon asked and Harry looked at him.</p><p>“I thought visions were of the future?” he said and Master Koon hummed.</p><p>“Typically, yes,” he said. “Observations of the past are certainly possible though.”</p><p>“What about intervening with the past?” Harry asked. “I’m pretty sure that I’ve given Hermione information that she’s used to change things.”</p><p>Cricket was looking increasingly lost – Harry empathised. Master Koon was considering the question carefully.</p><p>“I would not have thought that was possible,” he said very slowly. “And yet, I do not claim to be privy to all the mysteries of the Force.”</p><p>Harry grimaced, a little unsatisfied with the answer. “It’s just,” he said, “I think that <em>they’re </em>the ones I need to talk to. To understand what happened with Voldemort the first time.”</p><p>“And you think they are currently dead,” Master Koon said.</p><p>“Yes,” Harry confirmed. “But – I wasn’t lying when I said they helped me pick my crystals. They were <em>there</em>.”</p><p>“Perhaps then, your crystals are what you should meditate on for answers.” Master Koon looked contemplative, clearly trying to fit this all into his understanding. There was nothing but earnestness about him though and Harry nodded.</p><p>“But I should tell you and the 104<sup>th</sup> everything, first,” he said.</p><p>“That would certainly be appreciated,” Master Koon said gently and Harry ignored the twist in his gut.</p><p>“Wait, wait,” Cricket said quickly. “If the telling comes with <em>visuals </em>this time, can the 304<sup>th</sup> be with you too?”</p><p>Master Koon laughed and then counter-proposed. “Perhaps everyone that can be discharged from the infirmary tonight?” he offered. “Unless you’d prefer it to be only a few of us, Padawan.”</p><p>“No,” Harry said. “No, the 304<sup>th</sup> would help.” At least they’d be familiar with what he had to say and it’d be comforting to have them around.</p><p>“And,” he said a little hesitantly. “Tomorrow – could you help me with my crystals?”</p><p>“Whatever I can do to assist,” Master Koon promised.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'd intended to get onto the lightsabre in this chapter. Instead you got more talking. My bad. It'll come eventually!</p><p>As a quick overview of the ‘troopers currently alive:</p><p>304th<br/>•	Seefer<br/>•	Lucian<br/>•	Sen<br/>•	Cricket<br/>•	Ricochet<br/>•	Sketch<br/>•	Teejay<br/>•	Ricks<br/>•	‘02<br/>•	‘49<br/>•	Scramble<br/>•	Teeks<br/>104th<br/>•	Wolffe<br/>•	Boost<br/>•	Sinker</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0039"><h2>39. Chapter 39</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
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</p><p>The meditation room seemed overly full with thirteen full-sized men crammed in alongside Harry and Plo Koon. Teeks was there, albeit looking wan, Sketch and Ricochet carefully tucked in beside him. Sen and Boost hadn’t managed to get themselves discharged and Boost had shed his normal positivity to look remarkably grumpy when told this.</p><p>Plo Koon watched the way that Seefer hovered over Harry, a kind of desperate over-protectiveness to his sharp actions. The mind-healers had not been enthused about releasing him, advising strongly that he be kept in the Temple in a low-stress position but – no, Plo Koon didn’t think that would be wise.</p><p>He had found himself meditating, occasionally, on the conversation he and Harry had had over a month ago, on the attachment principle. Looking at Wolffe and Sinker, thinking of Boost back in the infirmary – and thinking of ’56 and ’62 and the others who’d died so recently – well, he couldn’t claim in all honesty that he was free of attachment. He doubted many Jedi could nowadays.</p><p>Harry looked nervous and tired. It had not been an easy time for him and Plo Koon could only hope that the future would bring him some more peace. He did not think that would be the case, however, not with how the war was progressing. They all deserved peace and it was hard to think that Geonosis had barely been a year ago.</p><p>“Um,” Harry said eventually, looking around. “I think you know my report.” He chewed on his lip, his Basic accented with stress. “So – I was born on a planet called Earth. I don’t know what we called the system, because we didn’t have space travel.”</p><p>Wolffe and Sinker were the only ones who showed any surprise at this. Harry had mentioned that previously in his report to the Council and the senior Padawan assigned to search for his system had mentioned that the only interest he had shown was in a system called Ear’kona.</p><p>“I – don’t know for sure,” Harry continued, in a quiet, thin voice, “but we- my best guess is that this was a long time ago.”</p><p>And Plo had guessed as much from his previous comments so he kept his face placid. There had been records of Jedi being frozen in time – Than-el, from the Sith Wars; others, in carbonite.</p><p>Harry looked like he was struggling with something, leaning heavily into Seefer. They were good together; having someone to take care of distracted Seefer from his own guilt, Plo Koon noted.</p><p>“My parents were – <em>magic</em> users, Force users,” Harry said. There was an image projected into their minds, two humans on a flimsi-slim datapad, perhaps, a recorded moment. They looked like Harry, Plo Koon judged, as much as he was able to tell human faces from one another. It was an odd feeling, to be viewing memories not his own – but then, it was an odd bond that Harry had established, strangely embedded and encompassing against the normal training bond.</p><p>“There was a war when I was a baby and – he called himself Lord Voldemort, and-“ the images that were projected were jumbled now, a flash of green light and a woman screaming. Wolffe felt as though he were ready to leap into battle and Plo Koon kept him still with a light touch on his shoulder.</p><p>The story came out in stumbling stops and starts, flickering images, and Plo Koon stayed silent. In many ways it matched what Harry had said several times before in several different reports, but to <em>see </em>what he meant, to piece things together small step by small step-</p><p>His family did not care for him much, Plo Koon noted – but that was not unheard of when it came to Jedi. Many times the children they claimed were unwanted, <em>feared</em>. Harry grew older in his memories though and his Temple didn’t come for him – that had him frowning. Did they not have finders to search out their children?</p><p>Other things caught his attention too; every face was a human one, every word spoken in a strange language he couldn’t place. The technology he saw was primitive at it’s very best – perhaps a religious society?</p><p>And then there were letters and a giant of a man and – Plo Koon watched and felt a cool moment of judgement. And a giant of man, using the Force in a way he had never seen before against a <em>child</em>, twisting and distorting his body against his will and leaving him with a tail poking out of his clothes. Was that – but no, there wasn’t a single word of reprimand given against him. Harry was swept away in the memories, and he was a child but – <em>too old</em>, he thought faintly, because if Anakin Skywalker had been too entrenched in his ways at nine then certainly Harry was too old here.</p><p>Harry continued to speak, his voice growing hoarse and Plo Koon watched with an increasing sense of disquiet. A hidden society of Force users – but where were the Agricorps, the Medicorps? How did these Force users serve the whole? Perhaps Harry was too young to see how their powers were being used to benefit, but – they seemed insular, self-serving. He stilled his own thoughts and tried to harness his bias. Now was a time for listening and learning, not judging.</p><p>A castle that was more alive than static, spirits existing beyond their bodies, a woman leaping into the air her body shifting from a feline to human in a way that a Clawdite could only <em>dream </em>of (where did her mass go?) A sneering, dark haired man, oppressive in his presence, impressing fear on his students- He was seeing this from <em>Harry’s</em> memories, he reminded himself. Bias was inherent.</p><p>The <em>troll</em> had the ‘troopers cursing, more than one scrambling for a blaster – then rolling in the air, a broom trying to buck them off – a reptilian creature breathing fire, poisonous fangs snapping as the gigantic human cooed over it – a creature of the Force, four-legged and silver, blinding in its purity, lying dying as a dark figure <em>– Sith</em> – raised a bloody mouth from its neck –</p><p>-And through it all, the Force lying quiescent, obedient, gestured around with abandon by children with sticks. Living creatures were turned into ornaments, their nature twisted away from them as beginner lessons in transfiguration, handfuls of eyes poured into bubbling cauldrons for potions. Perhaps Harry was skimming the memories of ethics classes and politics, and discussions of <em>responsibility</em>. Perhaps they came later in the classes at this school, the children kept within its hall far later than the Jedi. And there were so many human children in their dark robes, jumbling together and laughing, gossiping in libraries filled with paper books, and the underpinning knowledge that this was one country out of many and there were dozens of schools <em>just like this</em> on the same planet – how many Force users did that make?</p><p>And then two human children accompanying him, a series of challenges – but were these <em>tests? </em>They certainly could not be security if three barely trained Initiates could make their way past them – And a human, a <em>teacher</em>, unbinding his head covering to reveal a snake-like face embedded on the back of his head, a hissing <em>Voldemort</em>- a bloody stone in his hand and then a mirror smashing- And where were the <em>adults</em>, where were the Jedi that they left their children unprotected like this? Certainly the Jedi tested their Padawans beyond normal civilian lives but it was under careful mentorship, not in this careless fashion.</p><p>The memories continued to spin, now in places and times that Plo Koon could recognise. Perhaps, he was forced to admit grimly, the idea of careful mentorship was one he had overstated because there was Harry, barely trained, barely armed, doing his best in a war zone, and there were men being thrown away by Krell – and what had the war done to them, that one of his brother Jedi could act in such a way to the people they were responsible for? No wonder that the 304<sup>th</sup> had held their distance from him; even now he could feel them flinching at the memories.</p><p>-And Voldemort, claiming that <em>Harry</em> had allowed him to survive – but no, Plo Koon was more than present in his mind now and there was not even a trace of the Sith touch left behind so whatever corruption he had wrought was of his will, not Harry’s. A vision, then, of the past – a determined young woman speaking of <em>soul shards</em>, and what Sith monstrosity was that? And moments in Ilum, a glimpse of support, of friendship- And then <em>voices</em> asking him about home and a shield expanding, wrapping itself into a web of lights, those unusual bonds-</p><p>And they were done.</p><p>Harry was shaking now, pale and worn. Seefer stroked his head back from his temples and Plo Koon considered what needed to be done.</p><p>“How long ago?” he asked finally, wishing that he did not have to question further. It was Cricket who spoke up for him.</p><p>“We found references in his old languages to some of his teachers,” he said. “Best guess is some time before the founding of the Galactic City, just before human invention of hyperspace.”</p><p>Which would be quite the time ago, Plo Koon thought quietly. To have everything familiar taken away – his poor Padawan. He knew Harry had had some time scheduled in with grief counsellors previously, but perhaps he needed to revisit those provisions.</p><p>“I see,” he said. He regretted, briefly, that there was such a difference in their species’ breathing requirements, preventing him from tucking Harry away in Padawan rooms off his own sleep chamber. He was not enthusiastic about sending him back to the Padawan dorms alone. There would be space in the ‘troopers’ barracks – perhaps that would be best.</p><p>“It is quite the difference,” he said after a moment, “To see what you mean with your words, rather than understand them from a report.” Harry felt worried for a second and Plo Koon sent a strand of reassurance to him.</p><p>“A lot’s changed,” Harry said after a moment. “Magic – the Force – it’s different. Some things – it doesn’t like.” His voice was hoarse.</p><p>Plo Koon hummed a little. “We must find out more,” he said. “To deal with this Voldemort – we cannot rely on our ways of dealing with Sith.” Madame Nu was dead though, and there were few who knew the Archives as well as she had. Perhaps there would be some snippets tucked away – but instinct was telling him that they would need more than this.</p><p>“Thank you for sharing this,” he said finally. “I know it cannot have been easy.” He was glad that the bond made it easy to push his sincerity through and the way Harry slumped in relief told him it was needed.</p><p>“It’s all just confusing,” he whispered and the 304<sup>th</sup> were there around him, fiercely protective.</p><p>“I imagine it must have been,” Plo Koon agreed. “And now, perhaps, it is time to rest on these revelations – it is best to think further on a clear head.”</p><p>The men recognised that as a dismissal and began to move. A quick word to Sergeant Sinker had the guarantee that Harry would not be spending the night alone and Plo Koon gestured Wolffe to stay behind as the others trailed out.</p><p>“Time travel,” Wolffe said finally, sounding a little shell-shocked.</p><p>Plo Koon hummed and they both considered what they had learnt.</p><p>“They seemed very different from the Jedi,” Wolffe said and Plo Koon nodded.</p><p>“If they lived before the Galactic City, then it is some fifty thousand years before the Je’daii Order on Tython came to be,” he said. “From Tython, it would take another twenty-five thousand years before this evolved into the Jedi Order. Many things change in hundred years, let alone more than that.”</p><p>Wolffe cursed softly. “Then records?” he asked.</p><p>“Myths and legends only,” Plo Koon said musingly. “Nothing that I would expect to be true by now.”</p><p>Plo Koon could see the way his Commander was puzzling over this, trying to understand how to process the information and find a way forward.</p><p>“What do we do, General?” he asked finally and Plo Koon pressed his talons together.</p><p>“We ask the archivists to focus on myths and legends,” he said. “We look into the traces of Harry’s world. We continue to get the Guard to hunt this Voldemort down – and we continue with the war.”</p><p>“Sir,” Wolffe said slowly. “I just – if this Voldemort came <em>with </em>Harry…”</p><p>“Then it means that he is not the Sith behind this war,” Plo Koon said in confirmation. It was certainly a troubling thought.</p><p>“So there’s more of them,” Wolffe said. His face was grim.</p><p>“The Sith are not typically known for their ability to collaborate,” Plo Koon offered. It was a poor consolation. There was much he would have to talk to the Council about in the next session.</p>
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<a name="section0040"><h2>40. Chapter 40</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
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</p><p>“Breathe in,” Plo Koon murmured, “And let the Force surround you. Breathe out. Your lightsabre must be an extension of yourself. Breathe in. Look both within yourself and within the Force.”</p><p>Harry let Master Koon’s rumble fade away into the distance, focusing tightly on his crystals. They hummed to him, a deep rhythmic sound that was just – a beat off, perhaps, untampered.</p><p>It felt like there had been little space to breathe over the past few days. The temple repairs continued at speed and there was a new intentness about the Jedi he saw, a focus of the war having been brought into the place they saw as a refuge. The Council had been occupied with soothing the Senate and the Chancellor who was apparently demanding regular updates on Voldemort – Master Koon had insisted that Jedi protocol be followed and Padawans remained unnamed, which was Harry’s only escape from being forced into those sessions.</p><p>Seefer had finally been released from the mind healers but there was a shakiness about him, a desperation that only seemed soothed when he had Harry in his sight. Harry had to admit to feeling much the same – and that extended to all of <em>his</em> troopers. Luckily Master Koon was tolerant about it, and equally tolerant about the fact that Harry had more-or-less permanently relocated to the barracks.</p><p>He realised that he was letting his mind drift and brought it back gently to listen to his crystals humming. Flexibility and resolution, they’d said. He wondered if he’d made a mistake there – allowing someone else to choose <em>for</em> him. The Force hadn’t felt wrong about it though. It was just – there was something he wasn’t seeing here. Some kind of balance point between the two crystals, the opposites.</p><p>Master Koon was saying something but Harry couldn’t make himself focus on the words. He felt – almost on edge, as if he were about to tip into booming heartbeat that underpinned the galaxy, that moment where he’d felt like he’d seen <em>everything</em> and he nearly lost himself to the vastness. That vastness was condensed though, the universe sitting within two pulsing crystals. They were – present, and yet not, and if he allowed himself to lose focus he could almost see a pathway stretching back – not distance precisely, more –</p><p>He let himself touch the pathway and –</p><p>It felt briefly like he was both everything and nothing, a disjointed jolt that had him panting desperately as his fingers – he had fingers! – and hands and arms and legs and all of his body reformed, his vision crossing and darkening before it came back. He had never been awake previously, he realised dimly. The grass was prickling against his finger tips and he shakily pushed himself to his feet, looking up into the sky to see the distinctive Earth sun hovering high.</p><p><em>Okay</em>, he thought to himself and looked around. He was in a small clearing in what looked to be the Forbidden Forest and he shivered briefly, debating whether or not to move. There was a moment of thought and then his wand was in his hand. It felt unfamiliar there, having been so long since he’d actively reached for it but it reacted delightedly to being reunited, a brief shower of golden sparks surrounding them both.</p><p>His head felt faintly muffled, the bonds that he’d grown swiftly accustomed to muted in his mind. He touched them briefly – but no, they were still whole at least, even if he couldn’t get more than the lightest sense of <em>alive</em>.</p><p>Harry tried to check direction – which way would Hogwarts be? The Forest felt dark against his senses and he couldn’t feel the glow of lives that he would have expected but… there was a distinctly sentient presence, larger than he’d felt before and he fixed it in his senses. It was as good a guess as any, he thought, and there was no point in waiting here. There had always been a reason for him to be present before and he saw no reason why it would be different this time.</p><p>The Forest felt darker than it had before and Harry found himself jumping at every movement. It didn’t have the oppressive heat and the plants were all different, but he found himself reminded of Eskilon-5. It was the presence, he thought, a feeling of being hunted pressing down on him. He wondered if Firenze was around to save him this time. His wand flared as if in offense at that thought and he nodded sharply. He’d seen battle since then. He was much more prepared than he had been the first time they’d gone into the Forest.</p><p>In the corner of his eye he saw massive skittering limbs, a spider the size of a horse, but it was scuttling away through trees at high speed. He swallowed a little dryly. Maybe he wasn’t <em>that</em> prepared.</p><p>He had to struggle to remember the words but <em>lumos</em> came to his lips eventually, the wand movements feeling stiff. The light was reassuring though, pressing back some of the imposing feeling. Lucian probably would have scolded him for it, too likely to draw attention but – creeping through the dark trees without light felt like a worse idea.</p><p><em>Harry!</em> a voice called, echoing and distant. He cocked his head, trying to hear it more clearly. Was that – Master Koon perhaps? He nudged at the muffled strand and the next shout was clearer, insistent in his head.</p><p><em>Vision</em>, Harry sent back as strongly as he could. He thought about trying to yank himself back again – but no, he thought, certainty in his bones. He was meant to be here.</p><p>The next set of words were lost, but Harry caught the trail end of <em>too far. </em>He tried to send a wave of reassurance but it was crippled by the sudden writhing in the darkness the set him on edge. Determination came back to him, a gentle call back to the Temple, and he swallowed roughly.</p><p>A whickering sound to his left drew his attention and Harry let out a startled breath at the sight of a golden foal, its horn a small nub on its forehead.</p><p>“Oh,” he said. He’d never been close to a live unicorn before.</p><p>It wandered closer to him, eyeing his glowing wand with curiosity. Warm air was huffed at his face and Harry let out a startled laugh. It felt – like light, like the soft moment before his shield had expanded when everything was <em>right</em>. “Hello there,” he said softly.</p><p>The unicorn raised its head higher and made a satisfied sort of sound. Behind it larger adults came melting out of the darkness, sleek silver reflecting dully in the light from his wand. The tallest stallion looked sharp-eyed at him before it tossed its head and began to trot off.</p><p>Harry stayed there still for a second, before a headbutt at his back prompted him to move. He blinked and moved, stumbling in a Forest that seemed far much less ominous now he was in the middle of a quick-moving herd. Harry thought to press a moment of delight back through his bonds as he followed, hopefully overcoming that previous flicker of fear.</p><p>There was a murmur, something even more muffled than Master Koon – Seefer?</p><p>They were coming out of the Forest now though and Harry felt his breath catch the way it always did when Hogwarts came into sight. There was the faintest ripple, like passing through a bubble and the unicorns watched him for a long moment. The golden foal met his eyes and then they were gone, trotting away in a rolling wave of gold and silver.</p><p>Harry watched them go briefly, then turned his head back to focus on where Hogwarts stood stark against the clear blue skies. It looked – battered, he supposed. Two of the towers had collapsed and the grey stone was discoloured black in places. The grounds were scorched but recovering, small green shoots poking up through the soil. Hagrid’s hut was gone and Harry bit his lip. He hoped Hagrid was okay.</p><p>Even damaged it was still beautiful. There was a resonance to its presence that curled around his spine and he made his way forward with steps that were increasingly confident. He could remember this path back from where Hagrid’s hut had been and he kept his eyes scanning for any signs of life. There should be children shouting, he thought – he’d missed that sound, the Jedi Temple so <em>quiet </em>in its serenity. There was nothing though.</p><p>The bond was tugging insistently in the back of his mind and Harry holstered his wand almost absent-mindedly. <em>Come with me,</em> he thought back and received a note of startlement in his head. <em>I can’t go back yet but there’s a path out here</em>. He didn’t know how he knew that, but it was true. He pushed magic into the bonds and there was a flicker, a thought – and then Master Koon was beside him, his talons tucked into his sleeves. He looked absurdly out-of-place in these grounds.</p><p>“I believe there is much to talk about regarding appropriate risk-taking, Padawan,” his Master said and Harry might almost have thought him unruffled had he not been able to feel the faint note of disapproval.</p><p>“I’m supposed to be here,” Harry said, frowning a little as he squinted into the distance. “Can’t you feel it?”</p><p>Master Koon took a moment to assess the Force and his exhale was a heavy thing through his rebreather. “Yes,” he said after a moment. “But the Force is – different here.”</p><p>“Less alive,” Harry said thoughtfully. “More structured. More obedient.”</p><p>Master Koon inclined his head. “We should see where this vision of yours takes us then,” he said solemnly.</p><p>Harry nodded and restarted his path. “This is the path just to the side of the main entrance,” he said. “The Great Lake’s on the other side of Hogwarts.”</p><p>“It looks there has been fighting here,” Master Koon said and Harry grimaced.</p><p>“Yeah,” he murmured. “I hope no one got hurt.” He thought of how worn Dean and Hermione had been and was forced to concede that as highly unlikely.</p><p>“The greenhouses were over there,” he gestured. “They look – more or less in one piece. Sprout would have been really upset if they were destroyed.”</p><p>“And the stone circle – does that have a meaning?” Master Koon enquired and Harry shrugged a shoulder.</p><p>“Maybe,” he said. “I think it’s where a lot of the protection spells were laid – some kind of ritual circle?” He couldn’t be more accurate than that.</p><p>Master Koon hummed and reached out through the Force. Harry echoed him, curious what he might be sensing. The large presence hid anything specific beneath its bulk however and Master Koon stilled as he looked up.</p><p>“Is the building sentient?” he asked cautiously and Harry chewed on the thought.</p><p>“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Maybe?”</p><p>There was a snap of twigs to one side and Master Koon had his lightsabre lit in an instant. Harry swivelled, his wand coming to his hand – and then he paused, seeing a blonde woman with dreamy eyes and the most absurd earrings he’d ever seen dangling from her ears. She had her wand drawn but she let it drop with a delighted smile.</p><p>“You must be Harry,” she said. “Hermione was sure that you’d turn up.”</p><p>“I – do I know you?” Harry asked cautiously and she smiled.</p><p>“Oh no, we never met,” she assured him. “I’m Luna.” She peered at Master Koon.</p><p>“Is he an Umbugular Slashkilter?” she asked interestedly. “I heard that they could guide lost travellers home sometimes. Daddy says that they fear spearmint and doxies though, and can get a bit violent if surprised with them.”</p><p>Harry didn’t know how to respond to that. “Er,” he said intelligently and Master Koon touched his elbow gently.</p><p>“Perhaps you might translate, Padawan?” he prompted and Harry flushed. He hadn’t even realised that he’d switched.</p><p>“I – yes,” he said. “I’m Harry and this is,” he struggled a second for the word and decided on, “Professor Plo Koon. He’s my teacher.”</p><p>“Oh!” the woman said in surprise. “He’s a being then! My apologies Professor Plo Koon.” She bowed her head a little. “I’m Luna Lovegood. You should come with us – Hermione’s been insisting on waiting.”</p><p>“Nice to meet you Luna,” Harry said. “Is it just Hermione here?”</p><p>“No, we’re all here,” Luna said airily. “It’s nearly the solstice, so it’s our best chance.”</p><p>“Best chance for what?” Harry asked and Luna’s smile was a mysterious thing.</p><p>Harry frowned slightly and translated quickly for Master Koon who was waiting. He processed the information and inclined his head back at Luna. “The Force works as it wills,” he said meditatively. “I am sure that this will be illustrative.” Harry noted that though he had deactivated his lightsabre, his hand did not stray from its grip.</p><p>“We’re just getting set up by the ritual circle,” Luna said and then blinked. “I almost forgot – <em>expecto patronum!</em>” A silvery hare bounded out of her wand and Luna stooped to say a few words into its fur. It leapt into the distance at speed and Harry watched awe-struck.</p><p>“How did you do that?” he asked, and Luna cocked her head at him.</p><p>“It’s a patronus,” she said lightly. “We use them for fighting dementors – soul-eaters,” she clarified at Harry’s look of blankness. “They can also carry messages though, so I was just letting the others know.”</p><p>Harry nodded. “Like the Light made present,” Master Koon observed. He felt a little wistful. He caught Harry up in a discussion between himself and Luna at that point and Harry rapidly found himself floundering for translation terms between the two of them – Luna nearly sparkled at the chance to be talking spell theory, but Harry couldn’t for the life of him understand what she meant by half the words.</p><p>The stone circle seemed deeply unassuming when they approached, a small swarm of young adults around it. There were maybe twenty-five of them and of them Harry recognised only Dean and Hermione – although after a moment’s thought, he decided one of the men might be Justin Finch-Fletchley. They were accompanied by a vast array of what looked to be potions ingredients and ritual markers and Harry suspiciously identified at least one of the cups as holding some kind of creature’s blood.</p><p>One of the men looked up and started heavily at the sight of Master Koon. “Merlin,” he spat out, “Luna, what the hell –”</p><p>“This is Professor Plo Koon,” she said with a wide smile. “He’s Harry’s teacher.”</p><p>“You could have mentioned he wasn’t human!”</p><p>Luna paused, thinking this over. “Oh,” she said, tapping her wand to her lips. “I suppose I could have, couldn’t I?” She blinked dreamy eyes around at everyone and someone cursed. “Professor Plo Koon doesn’t speak English, so Harry’s translating for us.”</p><p>“Great,” one of the women said. “The time-travelling prophesied chosen one is translating for the,” she gestured a little widely.</p><p>“Alien, I’d imagine,” Hermione said, appearing with a barrel levitating beside her. She looked deeply fascinated. “I have to admit, that hadn’t even occurred to me but it’s wonderful to have an answer to whether there <em>is</em> life out there.”</p><p>“The alien,” the woman said in tones of one who had nothing else much to say. “Of course.”</p><p>“Hermione,” Harry said. She had a scar bisecting half her face and one of her eyes was a milky white. She smiled at him and it was a tired thing.</p><p>“I am <em>so </em>glad you managed to make it, Harry,” she said genuinely and Harry looked at her.</p><p>“Make it to <em>what</em> though?” he asked and she set down the barrel with a sigh.</p><p>“Come with me,” she said. Luna tagged along, deliberately ignoring Hermione’s head tilt trying to hint her elsewhere.</p><p>“Harry?” Master Koon asked mildly, and Harry waved his hands a bit.</p><p>“Just – introductions?” he said a little weakly. “Hermione’s going to explain what’s happening.”</p><p>Master Koon nodded thoughtfully and Hermione looked at him. “You said he’s your professor?” she asked, and Harry shrugged.</p><p>“Sort of – it’s more of an apprenticeship system,” he said vaguely. “One teacher, one student.”</p><p>Hermione seemed to be thinking through the implications of this, spinning her wand in one hand.</p><p>“Luna said you were waiting,” Harry said after a moment, and Hermione exhaled.</p><p>“Yes,” she said. “It’s important that you know everything before we do what we have to.”</p><p>That sounded ominous.</p><p>“Voldemort?” Harry asked and Hermione blinked at him, before smiling a little.</p><p>“He should be mortal now,” she said. “Grindelwald killed him, just like you said he would. All of the soul shards are gone except for the one in your time.”</p><p>“That’s good though, isn’t it?” Harry asked and Hermione wriggled her fingers.</p><p>“It’s good,” she confirmed. “It’s just – I guess we’d hoped that they’d take each other out. Grindelwald’s- well,” she shrugged.</p><p>Harry watched her solemnly before turning to Master Koon. “How did they kill him?” Master Koon asked and Hermione nodded sharply.</p><p>“Three ways,” she said, her voice now sharp like she was reciting potions ingredients. “Basilisk venom, something infused with venom, or fiendfyre. Those are the only known ways to destroy a horcrux. It’s possible that your Voldemort may be more mortal now but it’s not worth chancing it. Grindelwald used fiendfyre – powered by the Elder Wand.”</p><p>“I don’t know what any of that is,” Harry said uncertainly and Hermione nodded.</p><p>“I know,” she said. “We’ve left a lot of the information in Hogwarts – we wouldn’t be able to teach it to you now. When we’re done, we’ll seal the school down so no one else can access it.”</p><p>“Can you even seal something for that long?” Harry asked and Luna was the one who spoke up now.</p><p>“All our calculations say that we should be able to,” she said. “Of course, no one can know for certain but – we’ll do what we have to.”</p><p>Master Koon was not particularly enthused about this answer, asking for and receiving crisp definitions of each of the three ways. He looked faintly appalled at the description of fiendfyre and Hermione looked defiant as she met his masked eyes.</p><p>“We did what we had to,” she said coolly. “I might not like Grindelwald but I find it hard to condemn him for killing Voldemort in whatever way necessary. He <em>destroyed </em>us.”</p><p>Master Koon nodded sadly. “War makes us do many things that we would rather not,” he conceded and Harry thought of the clones, his fingernails digging into his palms.</p><p>“But if Voldemort’s gone-” Harry said uncertainly, and Hermione looked at him.</p><p>“Voldemort broke the Statute of Secrecy a thousand-times over,” she said, her voice matter-of-fact. “He slaughtered muggles as a distraction. He and Grindelwald – they spent the past ten years using them as collateral and then we got surprised that they were upset about it.” She smiled a little bitterly. “We got out of one war – brought down all the wards around Nurmengard… they were celebrating the victory when the muggles bombed them as the first visible target they’d had for months.”</p><p>“We’re all going to kill each other,” Luna said softly. “No one’s willing to stop and talk.”</p><p> “Grindelwald’s been working on rituals – binding rituals. He’s got this vision of a golden age of magic. No more hiding.” Hermione smiled a little bitterly. “It’s a shame that he’ll win it in slavery, not peace.”</p><p>Harry found it hard to translate, his mind working through what Hermione was saying. It all seemed – so much.</p><p>“There is no way to negotiate?” Master Koon asked and Hermione bared her teeth at him.</p><p>“My peace,” she said deliberately, “Is <em>not </em>going to be won at the cost of someone else’s freedom. He’s taken their <em>will</em>.”</p><p>Master Koon was distressed at the thought and Harry could feel his mind turning to Seefer and the Mandalorians. He took a breath and Harry watched him exhale his emotions, calm himself into rationality.</p><p>“I see,” he said solemnly. “We have had our own problems with mind control – how is this broken?”</p><p>Harry sharpened at that question, eyes intent on Hermione. She looked unhappy. “Depends on the form of binding,” she said. “There’s a couple – the most comprehensive is the Imperius curse. You break that through practice more than anything else. You’ve got to recognise that the happiness isn’t natural.” She looked over to Luna. “Could you make sure that a couple of the books on occlumency are marked out?”</p><p>Luna nodded and then the hare was streaking out again.</p><p>“Sorry,” Hermione said. “It’s just – there’s not that much time. We need to start a few hours before the solstice peaks.”</p><p>Master Koon nodded at that from Harry. “Do they have any star system maps while we’re here?” he asked. “It seems that we’ll need to come back.”</p><p>That question prompted a bit more discussion between Hermione and Luna and someone from the ritual group was sent running.</p><p>“So Grindelwald’s – he’s enslaved people?” Harry asked cautiously.</p><p>“Yes,” Hermione said. “He’s going further and everyone’s so happy now that they can walk in cities unmolested, now that muggles treat them the way they <em>deserve</em>. There are ways of – making it permanent.” She grimaced.</p><p>“What are you going to do?” Harry asked. There was no doubt in his mind that they would be doing something. Hermione’s smile was a ferocious thing.</p><p>“We’re going to break magic,” she said. “Your Force – you said it was <em>alive.</em>”</p><p>Harry stared at her.</p><p>“It’s – sufficient sacrifice,” Hermione said. “Can’t you feel it with Hogwarts? She’s alive after a thousand years and the Founders barely put any sacrifice into it. If we put ourselves forward, if we put forward the past year of rituals and sacrifice and the people who’ve already died-”</p><p>“You’re going to kill yourselves,” Harry said numbly and Hermione looked at him, her face breaking from that wild moment.</p><p>“Harry,” she said softly, dropping to be closer to eye level to him. “Harry, if there’s one thing this damn war’s taught us, it’s that some things are worth dying for. It’s so easy to take step after step and then a mile down the road you find out that you’ve become the monster.” She looked at him. “I visited my cousins, Harry – it was like watching puppets jerk on strings. We’ve looked at so many different ways and every moment we give Grindelwald he just becomes stronger.”</p><p>“Willing sacrifice,” Luna said softly. “It’s not <em>right</em>.”</p><p>“But – aren’t you scared?” Harry asked.</p><p>“Oh, we’re all terrified,” Luna assured him, her protruding eyes blinking at him. “But that doesn’t mean we should do it, does it?”</p><p>“Your Force is there for everyone,” Hermione said. “Every living being tied up in it. We splinter magic, we reform it into every strand of life we can – and then we let it grow from there.” She smiled grimly. “It’s worth it for me. It’s worth it for all of us here.”</p><p>Master Koon rested a heavy hand on Harry’s shoulder and Harry leant into it. He swallowed. “This is,” he said roughly.</p><p>“It’s goodbye,” Hermione said. “It’s good luck.” She reached out to hold his hand and Harry pretended not to notice how both of them were shaking. “And it’s a promise and a reminder – we’ll make sure when you come back to visit Hogwarts, you’ll have what you need. It’s a big ask to take on Voldemort.”</p><p>“I’m not alone,” Harry said, glancing up at Master Koon and Hermione looked at Master Koon now.</p><p>“You’d better not be,” she said firmly. “Just – remember, will you?”</p><p>Harry nodded. “It doesn’t feel right,” he said a little reluctantly and Hermione laughed.</p><p>“You don’t get to have every fight,” she said. “I wish you didn’t have the one you do.” She brightened. “I’ve left you plenty of books though,” she said. “And there’s letters from all of us, so that’s something to look forward to.”</p><p>Harry groaned theatrically to hear her giggle wetly, and she stood up, breathing deeply.</p><p>“I don’t think you’ll be here much longer,” she said, and Harry knew that was true. There was a sense of finality now, the Force – magic? – snapping ties and threads. “I just – magic’s a part of you, Harry, whatever we call it.”</p><p>Harry nodded. “Good luck,” he whispered but he wasn’t sure if she heard it, the scene turning thick and syrupy in his head.</p><p>He breathed in and breathed out and felt everything close off. The floor of the meditation room was firm beneath it. Almost without thinking, he reached out to his wand and let it disassemble, phoenix feather detaching and holly wood flowing into thin strands. The wood he could – he could see it, just wound into the metal forming the handle, warm beneath his hands. The feather he let settle around the crystals, the electronic components somehow working with the magic rather than against it. It seemed to take no time at all and yet all the time in the world and when he blinked his eyes open it was to see his lightsabre in his hands.</p><p>So this, he thought in stunned disbelief, was what the Jedi meant by saying that a Jedi’s lightsabre was a reflection of themselves. It felt almost unnervingly right in his hands.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>40 chapter in and 95,000 words! I never really thought it would get this far. I'm thinking of doing some outtakes as a celebration when I get to 100,000 words - are there any scenes that you'd like to see, or any different scenarios that you wish would have happened? ;)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0041"><h2>41. Chapter 41</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Every time Seefer saw the damage done to the Temple he felt sick. It wasn’t so much that it was irreparable – although certainly when Senators came through to pose for dramatic war-zone holoshots they made sure to comment on the thousands of years of history damaged – but rather the reminder that <em>he’d helped do that. </em>Someone had worn his skin like he was a puppet and just – he’d been so <em>happy</em>, it’d just been like floating in this cloud of bliss.</p><p>It didn’t really help that the Jedi mind healers had been in and out of his head ever since, trying to work out how to stop it, how to trace it. Just a trooper this time, he imagined them saying, but next time – a Senator? A Jedi general?</p><p>…that was an unfair thought, he recognised. It was just – difficult. Most of the Jedi were kind about it. They were just so kriffing detached. It was like being a case study for psychologists in training – say <em>this</em> empathetic thing now, follow up with <em>this</em> question. Sometimes it felt like the Jedi just didn’t understand what emotion was and being advised to let go of his anger and meditate wasn’t particularly helpful. In his opinion, he had a lot to be angry about.</p><p>General Koon was at least reassuring that whatever Harry had done to tie them all to him would probably stop something like that from happening again, but probably was a hard word to base his faith on. When he thought of Harry, of the thought that he could just raise his blaster and-</p><p>-But Harry was fine. He had to tell himself that often and sometimes he just had to go and stand wherever his kid was, just to see him breathing and alive, but that wasn’t so bad in the scale of things.</p><p>Sometimes he wondered what it was like to be a <em>normal</em> citizen, that the ‘scale of things’ wasn’t measured in brothers dead, in the constant sense of loss. This is what they were made for though, and every attempt they’d made to escape it… well, it was a humbling thought to know that the Jedi had probably been aware of every conversation with Sha Chal. He just- he couldn’t work out whether he was bitter or not. <em>Harry </em>was a Jedi and he’d – well, he’d choose to die in a moment if he was in his right mind for his kid. Plo Koon wasn’t <em>his</em> but he meant well, Seefer could believe that. He just struggled to see how someone who bonded so easily, who <em>cared, </em>could see him and his brothers as expendable.</p><p>He – didn’t know what to think, not really. He’d spent his entire kriffing life training for this war and then Sen had said that the Jedi didn’t even know about their commissioning. It felt like someone was pulling strings here but he just didn’t have visibility on who that was.</p><p>It was just – you take what wins you can get and you keep on moving, Seefer thought. The already small 304<sup>th</sup> had been halved again after the recent push against the Temple but <em>they’d </em>driven that <em>demagolka</em> off (and how Seefer resented that he hadn’t been there to help his brothers). Small steps. Sonic grenades worked okay, slugthrowers not so much. Sen had said the <em>hut’uun</em> had been sent reeling from their sonics, and Seefer knew damn near every squadron would be equipped going forwards.</p><p>They’d learn, they’d adapt. (And guiltily he recognised that although ’56 and ’03 and ’62 and others had died – well, he hadn’t been <em>aliit </em>close to them, not like Cricket and Ricochet, who were both still breathing and that was all that mattered).</p><p>All the force <em>osik</em> still confused the <em>haran </em>out of him, but he knew by know that it was a very real thing. He thought ruefully of those initial moments of confusion at Harry scrunched into a little ball, <em>willing</em> the enemy to not notice them. He never thought he’d miss those days – but they’d been a kriffing sense simpler, now he thought back on them. He should just have kidnapped his <em>adiik</em> and made off to the Outer Rim. They’d both have been better off for it. None of this Jedi nonsense.</p><p>He guessed the Jedi nonsense would have come for Harry whatever the case though. He glanced over to where Harry was frowning over his latest piece of homework, Ricks and Lucian to either side of him as they tried to puzzle out between them what the answers were. General Koon might be peaceable but he certainly wasn’t lax about his teaching responsibilities and Harry had a lot to catch up with. At least the chances were that they weren’t going to be back onto a major battlefield soon.</p><p>General Koon was still in discussions with the Council but Wolffe had said it seemed likely that they’d be dispatched to see if there were any remnants of Hogwarts. It seemed ridiculous – expecting anything to survive this long? – but General Koon thought it was worth the chance. And if it brought down Voldemort then Seefer would consider it well-worth any ridiculousness. (His <em>mind</em>, he’d taken <em>his mind</em>.)</p><p>The door slid open and Teeks moved in beside him. His <em>vod</em> was as silent as he’d ever been but there was an ever-present tenseness around his eyes that Seefer didn’t think would be going away. He suspected he had no room to point fingers on that front anyway.</p><p>“Healers?” Seefer asked, after a moment, and Teeks inclined his head slightly. He sat loosely on the floor and Harry glanced up at both of them with a bright smile before returning to his argument – on ethics? Ethics and culture apparently and all the group working on it looked like they were about ready to start tearing hair out. (“But the point of the law is to stop bad things,” Harry was saying in frustration. “If that’s not true, then why is there any obligation to follow the law? But then I guess that means people think the Jedi are above the law which I <em>get </em>isn’t good. So-”)</p><p>“All good?” Seefer checked and Teeks nodded, then paused a little to tilt his hand from side to side.</p><p>“Aggression,” he said after a moment and Seefer frowned, trying to interpret that. “Wanted to know if I was feeling it.”</p><p>Seefer ran that through his head. “They think something might have unbalanced?” he asked, not willing to acknowledge the concern that swelled. Harry’s argument paused as he caught the emotion.</p><p>Teeks shrugged. “All fine,” he said dismissively. And that was true – Teeks certainly hadn’t been acting out-of-character since he’d woken, just more shaky, a little bit uncertain.</p><p>Harry popped up beside them. “Are you hurt?” he demanded, looking like he wanted to reach out his hands already. “Why did you have to see the healers?”</p><p>Teeks snorted lightly and gestured for Harry to go ahead. His kid’s eyes unfocused slightly as he did whatever mumbo-jumbo he had to get his healing to work miracles. He blinked heavily as he shook himself out of the trance. “Everything’s fine,” he said determinedly. “Why did the healers need to check you?”</p><p>“He was in a coma for a few months, Commander,” Ricks said dryly and Harry wilted a bit.</p><p>“Checking on my brain,” Teeks said in mild confirmation and Harry frowned.</p><p>“Your brain is <em>fine</em>,” he said sharply. “I broke all the connections on the thing in it – that was what was causing the feedback.”</p><p>Teeks cocked his head in question and Harry elaborated in a rush. “The <em>spell </em>was caught up in the electronics of the thing, I think, and they were just kind of bouncing off each other. But none of it was supposed to be there, not really, so I took out the connectors and scrambled it.” He shrugged. “And then I guess I did something with your cells because they weren’t dividing right – I probably should have asked about that.” He looked a little shame-faced. “I was just <em>there</em> and I could fix it so I did.”</p><p>Lucian held up a hand and Harry stopped talking. Teeks considered this all carefully. “Thanks Commander,” he offered after a moment and Harry grinned at him.</p><p>“Thing?” Lucian asked and Harry breathed out through his nose.</p><p>“I – a chip, maybe?” he said. “It felt electronic but there were neural connections for it too. It was weird, because it had been in there for <em>ages</em>. ’49 and Seefer have it too, but it just,” he looked like he was struggling for words. “It’s always been there, but it didn’t belong. So I turned it off.”</p><p>Seefer could feel the blood pounding in his ears, a sudden fear gripping at him. “There’s something in my head?” he asked hoarsely. “What is it?” He wasn’t – no one got his mind again. He couldn’t help worst case scenarios flipping through his mind and Lucian grabbed onto his shoulder sharply.</p><p>“I can break it!” Harry said quickly, his eyes wide. He wrapped his arms around Seefer and Seefer let himself take the hug. He breathed in and out slowly, the way the mind healers had told him to.</p><p>“Doesn’t answer what it is though, Commander,” Lucian said. He sounded like he was trying for levity but couldn’t quite reach it.</p><p>Harry looked uncertain. “I don’t <em>know</em>,” he said. “Like I said, it’s electronic and it didn’t belong. That’s all I knew.”</p><p>Lucian nodded slowly. “So Seefer and ’49 have it. Do I?”</p><p>Harry reached out to check and they all waited in tense silence for Harry’s little nod. Ricks nudged in next without a question and confirmation wasn’t long in coming there either.</p><p>“Okay,” Lucian said and Seefer didn’t trust himself to talk. “So we all have it – that means it’s something the Kaminoans put in us, probably.”</p><p>“I don’t want anything from the longnecks in my head,” Seefer said and Ricks was sharp in his agreement.</p><p>“I know, I know,” Lucian said. “We just – we need to think this through.”</p><p>“We clearly don’t need it,” Seefer argued. “Teeks is doing just fine without it, so I don’t see what <em>thinking </em>is necessary-“</p><p>“Seefer, we’re on your side,” Lucian said in frustration. “But maybe before we go diving straight into brain surgery we should work out why they’re in there.”</p><p>”And what the longnecks are getting out of it,” Ricks said darkly. “But - I’m mostly with Seefer, sarge. If the Commander says it doesn’t belong then I want it <em>out.”</em></p><p>”Am I interrupting something?” General Koon’s voice interrupted them and Seefer jerked in surprise. How had someone with that kind of breathing apparatus managed to sneak up on them? Wolffe was to his side and the group exchanged glances.</p><p>“We’re talking about the thing in our heads, sir” Seefer said as steadily as he could. General Koon looked perplexed for a moment.</p><p>“You’ll have to elaborate, Seefer,” he said gently, and Harry piped up.</p><p>“When I was healing Teeks, the electronic thing I disconnected,” he said. “I don’t know if you felt it-”</p><p>General Koon hummed in thought, clearly trying to bring the memory to mind. “Ah,” he exhaled after a long moment. “Before you decided to fling yourself even deeper into the Force to heal something on the genetic level as well. I apologise Teeks – I had meant to look deeper into what was done there, but I fear that the events that followed rather distracted me.”</p><p>Teeks’ handwave dismissed any culpability, glancing back at Harry.</p><p>“All the ‘troopers have the same thing in their heads,” Harry said and then paused to correct himself. “At least, all of the ones I’ve looked at. It’s hard to notice because it’s not active – I only saw it because I knew what to look for from Teeks.”</p><p>“I see,” General Koon said. “And what does Healer Mirr-tan Eshki have to say about all of this?”</p><p>Teeks’ smile was a flash before he was back to seriousness. “Also a little distracted by events, sir,” he said dryly. “Looking at it more now.”</p><p>“Sir,” Seefer said a little desperately, willing to appeal to whatever he had to. “I don’t – I can’t have something in my head. Not again.”</p><p>General Koon’s nod was an understanding thing. “Let us talk to the healers first,” he said gently. “I would not put any of your health at risk unnecessarily.”</p><p>Lucian nodded in acceptance but Seefer shifted unhappily. “How long is that going to take though, sir?” he asked.</p><p>”And our orders, sir,” Wolffe said.</p><p>General Koon nodded in acknowledgment. “We are being dispatched to search for any remnants of Hogwarts,” he said. “Leaving in three days. I will talk to Mirr-tan Eshki before we leave and when we return she may have a solution for us. Is that acceptable?”</p><p>Seefer bit back the immediate no that sprung to his lips. That could be months with this thing stuck in his head and he knew it was his imagination but he could almost feel cold hands rifling through his head. Those moments where everything was clear, where everything made sense and then he opened his eyes again and he’d turned against his brothers and his kid.</p><p>”Harry’s already deactivated it once without any side-effects, sir,” he said. “I’m happy to trust him- and I’d prefer that than having something I don’t know anything about stuck in my head.”</p><p>”It may be entirely benign,” General Koon cautioned and Seefer nodded.</p><p>”It may not be, too,” he said. “I’m not willing to take that risk.”</p><p>General Koon looked at Harry and Seefer saw the way Harry’s jaw firmed. “If Seefer wants it deactivated, I’m going to deactivate it,” he said mulishly. “It’s his body, he gets to choose.”</p><p>”And if you damaged his brain while deactivating it?” General Koon asked mildly. “Not everything should be rushed. Wouldn’t it be better to have a second opinion and to go about this as safely as we can?”</p><p>Seefer tried to find the words but it was Ricks who stepped in. “Who owns our bodies, sir?” he asked and his voice was blandly professional.</p><p>General Koon looked horrified at the question although it was a fair one. The Republic and the Jedi had paid for them hadn’t they? They’d had that hammered into their heads for all that it didn’t seem to occur to many of the Generals.</p><p>”You do,” General Koon said and his voice was uncompromising. “The Jedi do not condone slavery and I certainly do not.” He was silent for a moment, looking troubled. Seefer decided not to challenge him on the concept of slavery at that moment. “I take your point,” he said with a heavy sigh. “You do of course have the right to make your own decisions about your health.”</p><p> There was no ‘of course’ about it, but Seefer appreciated the vehemence.</p><p>”Let me talk to Mirr-tan Eshki before we leave,” General Koon requested. “She may have some more information that could be useful. If after that, you choose to go ahead I will not stop you.”</p><p>Seefer inclined his head slowly and tried to ignore how tired the Jedi looked for a moment.</p><p>”Lucian, you accompany General Koon for the discussion,” Wolffe ordered and Seefer wasn’t surprised at the choice. “The rest of you - we need to get supplied for the mission.”</p><p>Harry looked inquisitively at Wolffe who frowned back. “You need to get some armour before we dispatch, Commander,” he said sternly and Seefer bit back a grin. “So do you General. I’ll get that requisitioned.”</p><p>“Please do,” General Koon said, his serenity back in place. “Lucian? No time like the present after all.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0042"><h2>42. Chapter 42</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Notes - some mention of canonical (and problematic) racism (speciesism?) in this chapter. Narrative reliability is a myth.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Anakin Skywalker was bone-tired. It felt like there hadn’t been a moment to rest for months now – just this constant grind of death and pain and no progress. The war seemed to stretch for infinity ahead of them and he couldn’t see how it would ever stop.</p><p>He’d reported in to the Council earlier that day, his first in-person report for – some time now. It had felt much as it had ever done, those eyes stabbing into him from all fronts, dwelling on his failures… he grimaced. Maybe that wasn’t accurate but it was how it felt. Always too reckless, too hasty in his decisions. They didn’t feel the Force the way he did, a constant singing in his ears. Why couldn’t they recognise that he was a knight now and a better general than half the Jedi Order at that?</p><p>He exhaled sharply, refusing to dwell on it further. Master Windu had at least conceded that the most recent mission had gone well despite his <em>unorthodox </em>approach, looking like his teeth were being pulled all the while. Plo Koon, hologrammatic blue from wherever he’d been dispatched to a few days previously, had gently asked about his health and admonished him to check in with the healers – and the Kel Dor master was right, he admitted grumpily to himself. He did need someone to check in on his arm connection; the nerves hadn’t been firing quite right for a few weeks now and he’d been using the Force to soothe the inflammation.</p><p>The Temple was a grim sight, the floors still coated with dust as construction droids whirred to repair the damage. Most of it was superficial thankfully, with the creches being among the worst hit – and how <em>dare </em>the Sith, to target their younglings? His internal outrage was broken by a floating image, a stray memory of the Tusken Village and he tore his mind away sharply. That had been different! Would Padme have told him that they had <em>earned his anger</em> if it hadn’t? And the Chancellor, he’d said the same – said that he’d understood completely, that it wasn’t a crime in Tatooine and the Tusken Raiders weren’t people, not sentient, not <em>really</em>, and sometimes the wildlife needed culling to prevent harm to human life. He could still remember that sickening switch of anger though, where it had felt like it hadn’t even been him raising his blade –</p><p>He forced the emotion back down with vicious determination, let the memory fade back into a blur. It felt like a release to forget about it again and to let his eyes fall back onto the Temple and not onto sand and desert and suns. (<em>“You look after your own,</em>” Old Emirra had told him sharply the day after her daughter had been killed by the Hutts. <em>“You remember that, little Ani. You look out for you and yours and you do what you have to. Everyone else will do the same.</em>”)</p><p>Snips was dropping off her class assignments and catching up with the few Padawans still present in the Temple which was good – he wasn’t sure if his quarters were set up for a Padawan yet. He noted to himself that he’d need to check in on that. The 501<sup>st</sup> were on leave and he had faith that Rex had them well-corralled. Padme had some fancy senatorial thing that night and she thought she could progress the Clone Rights Bill if she could get the time in with a couple of the more recalcitrant senators so he was loathe to disturb her from that (but he was so grateful that they had at least a few days planet-side. He’d missed her desperately).</p><p>A beep in his comms alerted him to the fact that the Chancellor’s secretary had put in some time for them to talk later that night, and he relaxed a little. Everything always seemed so much <em>clearer</em> when he’d had some time to talk with his mentor.</p><p>He entered the halls of healing and the Padawan on desk duty sent him a bright smile. It was Vokara Che who caught sight of him though and she laughed, waving the Padawan off.</p><p>“And I thought that you’d have to be dying before I saw you willingly enter the halls of healing, Anakin Skywalker!” she called and Anakin couldn’t help the rueful smile tugging at his lips.</p><p>“That’s Obi-Wan, not me,” he protested in mock-offense. “I’m very rational about my health.”</p><p>Vokara’s snort was an inelegant thing, her lekku swaying slightly as she shook her head. “I’m sure – I pity whatever poor medic’s had to put up with you over the last year.”</p><p>“Kix,” Anakin said readily. “Actually, I think he’ll be descending on you soon enough – apparently he has questions about Jedi baselines that he wants to verify.”</p><p>“Well, all learners are welcome,” Vokara said easily. “Especially now that the halls are a <em>little </em>quieter.”</p><p>Anakin sobered at that reminder and Vokara’s own smile dropped. “It was bad?” he asked.</p><p>“Not as bad as it could have been,” she said mildly. “But bad enough. With every death we grow lesser.” She sighed. “But – we do what we must, and it is enough that the Republic needs us.”</p><p>“Information’s been light,” Anakin said probingly as Vokara waved him over to a bed in a private room – an unusual privilege. “And – just my arm, it’s not too bad but-“</p><p>“<em>I’ll </em>make a call on that, thank you very much,” Vokara said firmly.</p><p>Anakin held his free hand up in surrender and she swatted at him fondly. As the Chief Healer, she was ostensibly too busy to be bothering herself with minor injuries such as his own but she’d had a soft spot for him since she’d removed his slave tracker when he’d been a frightened nine-year-old.</p><p>She prodded at the metal-flesh interface with a thoughtful hum, sending a small tendril of Force out to investigate. “And I imagine the Council didn’t want to cause too much concern,” she said distractedly. “Not until they can release more concrete information.”</p><p>Anakin waited pointedly and she raised an eyebrow. “What have you heard?” she asked and tweaked at a few of the connectors. He hissed.</p><p>“Not much,” he admitted when the stab of pain had subsided. “Heard it was a Sith – same one from Eskilon-5.” He looked up to gage her reaction and the tight lips confirmed it well enough. “Other than that, it’s all been rumours – Mandalorians assaulting the Temple, something about Master Koon’s padawan, clone troopers deserting and attacking us… the men have been pretty tense about it all.”</p><p>Vokara sniffed sharply. “Well <em>that</em> can be put to rest,” she said. “None of the clones willingly went against us.”</p><p>Anakin nearly took that at face value before the words sank in properly. “<em>Willingly?</em>” he repeated and Vokara shook her head.</p><p>“<em>That’s</em> something that will be shared when the mind-healers have more of a grasp on how to address it. There’s no need to cause a panic.”</p><p>Anakin processed this. That was a worrying statement for many reasons. “Alright,” he said slowly. “Is there anything that I should be keeping an eye out for?”</p><p>Vokara’s fingers tapped thoughtfully on his arm, and a bright cooling sensation spread across the inflamed flesh. Anakin took a breath of relief. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to <em>not</em> be in pain.</p><p>“Excessive happiness,” Vokara said quietly, eventually. “Particularly if it doesn’t match to their facial expressions – or to their general personalities. We’re looking for other identifiers.” Her face was serene but he could feel the displeasure she was taking care not to broadcast. “Sith techniques,” she said. “To think that they could influence a person like that…”</p><p>Anakin nodded trying to still the feeling of unease that spread through him, the Force nudging at him as if there was something he was missing. Mind control had always made him feel ill, even the little <em>nudges</em> that other Jedi used to try and steer a conversation the way they wanted it to go. Obi-Wan had always assured them that there was nothing that could truly make someone go against their will and that the suggestions would only work on the weak-minded, on aspects that weren’t core to them… but for an ex-slave who’d known the value of having his thoughts be the only place he was free it still felt wrong.</p><p>Vokara returned to humming over his arm, prodding and poking at different locations. Anakin could already feel how the Force had strengthened it though and he tried to memorise what she was doing to replicate when he was back on campaign.</p><p>“Master Che, I need to talk to you about the Kaminoans,” a winged healer said bustling through the door, her four arms occupied with datapads and a formidable frown on her face. Anakin squinted at her for a second before placing her as Mirr-tan Eshki, one of the Temple’s longer-standing healers. “The data they’ve sent over is quite <em>clearly </em>inadequate – how are we supposed to treat the clones properly if they won’t share-”</p><p>“Mirr-tan,” Vokara said, a light note of disapproval in her voice. “I’m with a patient.”</p><p>Mirr-tan Eshki squinted up and then quite clearly dismissed him from her thoughts. Anakin didn’t know whether the feel offended or not.</p><p>“This is <em>important</em>,” the healer insisted. “The Kaminoans are continuing to insist that the chips are aggression-inhibitors but we dissected two of the clones and they have <em>none</em> of the associated chemicals-”</p><p>“<em>Dissected two of the clones</em>?” Anakin hissed and Mirr-tan blinked down at him.</p><p>“We asked their Commanders for permission for their bodies to be released to us,” she said blankly and then looked back up at Vokara. “<em>And</em> it doesn’t help that the bio-chips are disintegrating on contact with air. It’s like they were specifically designed for us not to be able to process them!”</p><p>“Mirr-tan,” Vokara said in a very calm voice that indicated that she was nothing of the sort. “Have we discussed confidentiality recently?”</p><p>Mirr-tan’s wings ruffled noisily. “We’re all Jedi here and If I don’t get your sign-off now then I won’t be able to include it in Shaak Ti’s orders,” she said. “I’ve also asked for a copy of the genetic template so we can compare it against CT-3997’s post-healing.”</p><p>Vokara sighed and released Anakin’s arm. “My apologies – one moment,” she said and took the datapad off Mirr-tan. Anakin tried to resist the temptation to levitate it over to himself, still seething a little over the <em>dissection</em>. But then, he thought a little guiltily – was it any better leaving the bodies to rot in engagement after engagement?</p><p>“There’s a chip in the clones?” he asked suspiciously and Mirr-tan looked down at him.</p><p>“Mostly inert,” she assured him and Vokara finished signing her ID with a faint flourish.</p><p>“Slave trackers are mostly inert until they <em>blow you up</em>,” Anakin said and Vokara sighed.</p><p>“We’re dealing with it,” she said. “Anakin, you <em>need </em>to stop stressing your arm like this.”</p><p>“Nono<em>no</em>,” Anakin said. “Let’s go back to these <em>mostly inert</em> bio-chips that our troops apparently have installed in their brains.”</p><p>Vokara’s eyes were all admonishment at Mirr-tan Eshki and the healer ignored them as she submitted whatever request she was putting through. “As far as we can tell, it has no real effect,” Mirr-tan said finally. “We only noticed it because there was a malfunction.”</p><p>“And this isn’t concerning?” Anakin demanded.</p><p>“Of course it’s concerning,” Mirr-tan said sharply. “That’s why we’ve requested additional information from the Kaminoans. And if you’ll excuse me, Knight Skywalker, we have been a <em>little </em>busy over the past few weeks, what with the whole assault on the Temple.”</p><p>“…Sorry,” Anakin said, a little sheepishly. “It’s just-”</p><p>“A sensitive topic for you,” Vokara acknowledged. “The clones are a sensitive topic as a whole.”</p><p>“They’re good men,” Anakin said a little defensively. And if someone had installed chips, potentially <em>slave trackers</em> in their heads-!</p><p>“Yes, but,” Vokara said and sighed. “Jedi and armies. This isn’t what we’re <em>meant </em>for.”</p><p>“If not us, then who?” Anakin asked and Vokara just shook her head.</p><p>The rest of the check-up was relatively smooth and he was let go with a list of ways he should be taking better care of himself (there just wasn’t <em>time</em> for sleep sometimes!) and a time for Kix to drop in and visit. He stuck his hands into his pockets and frowned as he left. He didn’t like any of this. This new Sith who they had almost no information on, this mind influencing that had led a clone to acting against his will, these <em>chips</em> that just brought up memories of slavery and a deep instinctive revulsion-</p><p>Maybe the Chancellor would know what to think about this all. His head hurt suddenly and he rubbed at the bridge of his nose to relieve the headache. The Chancellor always made things seem so much clearer.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>100,000 words! (this is now officially the longest thing I've ever written)</p><p>Some brief outtakes and AUs should be going up a little bit later - you should see this switch into a series soon. :) If there's anything that you'd be keen to see, let me know!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0043"><h2>43. Chapter 43</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“That is very concerning,” Chancellor Palpatine said with a frown on his face. “I – am glad that you brought this to my attention, my boy.” His eyes were distant as if he was thinking through a puzzle and he shook his head after a moment. “I just cannot see why the Jedi would – but no, it is nothing.”</p><p>“The Jedi?” Anakin asked in startlement and Chancellor Palpatine’s smile was a tired-looking thing.</p><p>“It is very convenient that the Jedi would have commissioned an army for a war that no one knew was coming,” he said. “One thinks that such effort might have been better placed on establishing <em>peace</em> rather than preparing for war – but,” and he heaved a sigh. “I apologise. It has been – a wearying few months. I fear it makes me uncharitable.”</p><p>Anakin stayed silent, not liking the churning in his guts.</p><p>“It is just – they come with a ready-made army and now we find that there might have been <em>slave </em>chips installed in them? The Republic would never condone such an action and yet the way this war grinds on, it seems there are no good choices left to us.”</p><p>“The clones are good men,” Anakin said swiftly, a knee-jerk reaction.</p><p>“Of course!” Palpatine said. He sounded startled. “Why, I cannot imagine how I would deal without Commander Fox’s dedicated service – and I imagine the same is true of you.” His smile was a faintly indulgent thing and Anakin flushed a little.</p><p>“Rex is very supportive,” he said and the Chancellor patted his hand.</p><p>“No, I cannot imagine our men would do anything against the Republic,” he said with conviction. “Which does, I suppose, make this revelation of <em>chips</em> an uncomfortable one.” He pursed his lips a little. “I cannot imagine why the Jedi would not have made me aware of this.”</p><p>Anakin couldn’t think of a reason either. It made no sense not to inform the Supreme Chancellor of a potential risk this significant. He hunched his shoulders a little.</p><p>“No matter,” the Chancellor dismissed after a moment. “I am certain there must have been good reason for the decision. Now tell me of your latest mission, my boy – I hear you acquitted yourself very finely?”</p><p>The Chancellor sat back to endure through Anakin’s rambling explanation of whatever petty tasks the Jedi Council had dispatched him on recently. He kept a pleasant smile on his face as he worked his way through the implications of what he had heard.</p><p>The Kaminoans had already informed his agent of the enquiries into the clones’ manufacture but it was unpleasant to hear that it had potentially spread beyond a single point of investigation. So much for the easy solution of eliminating this stray healer, he thought darkly. Perhaps there were other plans that needed to be accelerated. It was just a pity that this had had to come in conjunction with this pretender who thought to cause trouble – the assault on the Temple had unfortunately rallied public sympathy in the Jedi’s favour.</p><p>He’d spent much of his life preparing for this campaign however. A few challenges would hardly derail the end result – and the threat of a Sith on Coruscant had allowed him to push through several more of his security bills. (And though this Darth Voldemort served his plans well enough for now, he would <em>enjoy</em> hunting the pretender down, making him scream for daring to infringe on a title not his own. He had fled off-planet for now, but his hunters would track him down soon enough.)</p><p>So many pieces in motion, such a vast array of paths to take… the only thing that was certain was that the Darkness waited on all of them. His plans would not fail him now.</p><p>****</p><p>“Again,” Master Koon said mercilessly, and Harry managed to bite back a groan as he returned to the start of the kata. The first time after he’d made his lightsabre it had felt like a rare treat to move through his katas with it, like being surrounding in a reassuring presence. Now… well, actually, he thought while studying the blade for a brief second it did still feel like something special. Like having his friends accompanying him with every move as he slowly grew stronger and swifter.</p><p>Nonetheless, Master Koon was taking his bare adequacy with a lightsabre as a personal challenge it seemed – he was never less than unfailingly kind but he would keep Harry in the training rooms day after day, moving through the same beginners’ stances until they had long since felt like second nature. After he was drenched in sweat and his arms were aching desperately, the training droids would come out and he would be focused on deflecting stinging bolts while protecting whatever objective was being set. Sometimes Master Koon had the troopers acting as high-profile targets that he needed to protect – Cricket particularly seemed to enjoy roleplaying a fainting Senator, prompted badly stifled snickers from everyone watching. The new medic who’d been sourced for the squad watched with a vaguely overwhelmed look on his face.</p><p>The blade was as yet a little too big for him but he knew with an odd kind of certainty that he’d grow into it in short order. His robes were already an inch or two too short for him and Wolffe had made sure his armour was adjustable for the growth spurt that might come – no one was too sure how long they’d be away from the Temple. There was no clear hyperspace lane out to Earth and as soon as they hit the Outer Rim they’d need to switch to multiple short hops, recalculating the navigation path each time. ’02 – or Vee as he’d finally settled on and was refusing to tell anyone why – seemed to be happily anticipating the challenge.</p><p>“Again,” Master Koon said and Harry returned to his initial position. The silvery blade of his lightsabre was entrancing, a colour that had set eyebrows rising as it wasn’t the traditional blue or green normally sourced from Ilum, and it was almost easy to fall into what Master Koon called moving meditation.</p><p>They came to a halt some time later – for the life of him, Harry would be unable to pinpoint exactly how much time had passed. There were scorch marks on the walls which indicated that the droids had been brought out but he felt – settled in his skin, comfortable. Lucian threw him a towel and seemed to be contemplating whether he could persuade Master Koon that blaster practice would be a nice cool down.</p><p>“Very well done,” Master Koon praised and Harry couldn’t help the bright smile that flickered up. “You have improved significantly. Perhaps we might move onto another Form in a few days.”</p><p>Harry nodded and could feel Master Koon’s gentle pride. “Perhaps a short rest before we both return to our studies,” his Master said thoughtfully and Harry breathed out in relief. They both chose to discretely ignore the way Lucian’s shoulders sagged a little – Harry wouldn’t put it past him to decide on surprise training in the middle of the night though.</p><p>The ship they were on was much smaller than ones they’d previously travelled on although still significantly oversized for the eighteen beings present on. Apparently, it had previously been a diplomatic barge that was donated to the Jedi temple once a particular Senator had decided to upgrade – much of the Jedi’s fleet came from such donations. The master suite had been an obscenely oversized room that had left Master Koon closing his eyes in exasperation. They were using it as a rec room now and that was Master Koon directed Harry with a light touch on his shoulder.</p><p>It was – nice, to see the troopers all relaxed around the room. Vee was still in the cockpit but he’d apparently decided that Scramble was the next best bet to train up as a secondary pilot so the two would be subbing sooner or later. Sketch was intently decorating the wall with a scene made up solely of different reds and Master Koon paused as they both watched him.</p><p>“Do you have a particular affinity for red, Sketch?” he asked curiously and Sketch shook his head.</p><p>“Boost had spare,” was all the explanation offered and a couple of snickers went around the room.</p><p>“None of them are the right shade,” Boost explained a little morosely. He was staring at his armour and Harry went over to his side. Boost had painted red and gold stripes over his pauldrons and had one of Teejay’s pauldrons out to compare – and yes, with a squint, Harry could see it wasn’t quite right. He reached out to tap it; it was different to the way he’d got used to using the Force but he could still remember how it had felt…</p><p>“What,” Boost said and Harry shrugged at him. Boost twitched the pauldron from side to side, examining it.</p><p>“I,” Boost said, and the snickers were now spreading. Master Koon had his head tilted to one side. “Commander, you,” the trooper said and then, turning to the 304<sup>th</sup>, “You absolute <em>shabuire</em>, you knew the Commander could do this all the time?”</p><p>Teejay gave him a vaguely guilty grin. “We were going to tell you,” he said. “But then you ordered about a hundred sample pots of red paint and, well-”</p><p>Boost lunged for him and Teejay ducked out of his attack with a laugh. “C’mon,” he protested, “You’d put so much effort into it – we didn’t want to spoil your fun!”</p><p>Master Koon sighed as the two fell into a wrestling match but didn’t put a stop to it. “I suppose we should continue with your language,” he said mildly and Harry pulled the translator over to him. They were working their way towards a dictionary between English and Basic that the translation droid they’d brought along should be able to use on any material that might have survived – it was very slow going though and some part of Harry wondered if they were getting their hopes up too much. Hermione had said that they’d make sure there was something to come back to – but it had been so long.</p><p>They’d work on this for an hour or two, then Master Koon would continue with learning the language – along with any troopers who felt up to it, which seemed to be most of them – and Harry would return to his politics essays. At some point, Harry assumed, Master Koon would also spend time reviewing Council decisions and progress for the war but that at least wasn’t something he needed to pay close attention to.</p><p>Despite the fact that there’d been little downtime, Master Koon seemed much more relaxed on the trip out – sparing indulgent smiles for the troopers as they found a variety of ways to entertain themselves and making sure he had long conversations with everyone. There was grief to him in long moments but… he seemed better here than he had in the Temple – and certainly since Abregado. It seemed the same with all of them, some kind of tension slowly dissipating from them as they got further away from Coruscant and the centre of the war. They all knew that there was an important purpose to this trip but – it was good, Harry thought, not to be in the centre of it all.</p><p>Seefer, too, seemed to be slowly piecing himself back together. Harry knew it would take much longer for him to be <em>better</em> but – he was getting there. He’d relaxed slightly when Harry had managed to disconnect the chip; Harry had wanted to address the <em>wrongness</em> about his cells too but thought it was better to wait until they were out of space and closer to a source of the living Force. He’d been dizzy enough working on the chip alone.</p><p>There was a buzz of a comm and Master Koon retreated after moment with a brief apology. Harry shrugged and pulled out his essay. If there was one thing his classes at the Temple had solidified, it was a desire to never go near any politicians if he had the choice. They made things so <em>complicated</em>.</p><p>“-to release them to Duchess Kryze?” Master Koon was saying as he left the room. “A fair compromise, I believe – but what of the one registered as a citizen of Coruscant-?”</p><p>“You’ve misspelled sentiency,” Ricks pointed out mildly, dropping into a seat beside him. Harry corrected it with a sharp jab. “Is this your politics essay?”</p><p>“Sentient rights,” Harry said in agreement. “Master Fenda set it, ahead of the Clone Rights debate.”</p><p>“Ah,” Ricks said, a resigned sounding noise. “It’s not going to pass – Sen’s already identified the likely voting blocks.” Sen did have a weird passion for following Senate debates but Harry could understand it in this case.</p><p>“It should,” Harry said grimly and set the search function for another reference. “Otherwise it’s <em>slavery</em> and the Republic doesn’t want to be seen to approve of that.”</p><p>Ricks hummed lightly. “Public opinion is where you win and we’re not popular with citizens,” he said and Harry scowled.</p><p>“That’s not fair,” he said – but, life wasn’t fair, was it? Otherwise none of the troopers would be dying the way they were. He ran a hand over his lightsabre. <em>Resolution</em>, Hermione had told him. <em>To keep to your ethics</em>, and that was what she’d done in the end, wasn’t it? Her and Luna and Dean and all the others, willing to die rather than allow slavery.</p><p>It was easy, he thought, to lose sight of what mattered when there was – the droids, and the separatists and <em>Voldemort</em> but-</p><p>He frowned up at Ricks. “How do we change public opinion?” he asked and Ricks laughed.</p><p>“With great difficulty when we’re on a mission,” he said but started to look thoughtful. “I don’t really know though.” He had the look that Lucian got when he was facing a difficult obstacle course, a kind of anticipatory challenge. “Maybe we should look into that,” he said, and Harry grinned.</p>
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<a name="section0044"><h2>44. Chapter 44</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sha Chal watched as the healer checked over the fresh skin where the wound had finally sealed over. She didn’t understand why the <em>jetii</em> were going to this much effort – especially not when they’d just shipped off the few surviving members of the Death Watch to the tender mercies of Kryze a few days previous. The Mand’alor was dead, the Death Watch were broken and there was just her left in this Temple, surrounded by enemies who insisted on treating her with a kind of wary consideration.</p><p>It confused her why she hadn’t been sent off with the rest of the survivors. They’d said it was because she was the only one who was a citizen of Coruscant – officially, at least – but that would have been easy enough to ignore. <em>Technically</em>, the Temple’s lawyers had said, there wasn’t anything that she’d done that was illegal – she’d just been a citizen caught up in a Sith’s attack. The Republic didn’t officially recognise the Death Watch as a terrorist organisation, after all – Mandalore was outside of their jurisdiction. She didn’t see how that married with her squad-mates being put into Kryze’s custody rather than being set free but – well, she supposed she should just count herself lucky.</p><p>It was hard to think of it as lucky though, when she tried to work out what would come next. With Pre Vizsla dead, his second dead and – well, as far as she could tell, a good three quarters of the Death Watch dead or shortly to be imprisoned, there was little to rally. The <em>dar’manda </em>Duchess must be beside herself with joy, she thought, her lip curling. Her enemies defeated without her having to raise a single manicured finger, packaged up for them by the <em>jetii</em> the same way her rule had been packaged up for her.</p><p>“…I think we can clear you for <em>gentle</em> exercise,” the healer said with a cautioning frown. “The muscle’s grown back but it is still fragile so please refrain from excessive acrobatics – that means no flips, no jumps over a storey high, reduce the rotational pull-”</p><p>Jumps <em>over a storey</em>? “I think I’ll manage to refrain,” Sha Chal said drily and the healer gave her a harried looking smile.</p><p>“Wonderful,” he said. “In that case, I think we can sign off on the discharge – just here and here.” He dropped into a brief mumble to himself but the paperwork was completed in short order and Sha Chal was left not quite certain what to do.</p><p>“Master Vos should be along shortly,” the healer said. “He’ll complete any further discharge.” He’d quite clearly checked out of any further engagement and Sha Chal watched him wander off with her head cocked. The holonews was on in the background and Sha Chal let her eyes flicker up to the scrolling text – <em>conscription for Coruscant security proposed in new bill; Senators debate how to protect the capital in wake of devastating attack on Jedi Temple. </em>They were a year into a war and they hadn’t instituted any kind of training for their citizens? <em>Auretiise</em>, she thought with contempt.</p><p>She ran a finger over the tunic the <em>jetii</em> had provided her and grimaced a little. She felt uncomfortable out of her armour but the <em>dar’jetii</em> had forced her out of it to work his filthy mind magic on her, not wanting the <em>beskar’gam</em> to interfere with his wielding of the Force. She’d fought – drawn her blaster on the people who might have well been her own <em>aliit</em> but they’d forced her down, dragged her out of her armour and then – that blissful, floating feeling that had felt <em>so good, so peaceful</em>-</p><p>Sha Chal dragged her mind away from the memory, feeling the bile rise at the back of her throat. She didn’t know what had been done with her <em>beskar’gam</em> but she’d have to find it. Beyond the sentimental value, <em>beskar</em> would be nearly impossible to get hold of this far out of Mandalorian space. She didn’t fancy her chances of getting back into the system now, either – particularly given the Death Watch presence in the territorial guard was likely to have been decimated. No more back door smuggling for them, she suspected.</p><p>What <em>was </em>she supposed to do now though? She’d been Death Watch since her parents’ death, since her Mand’alor had come recruiting with the promise of family, of the <em>resol’nare</em>, and of reclamation. She’d joined long after Galidraan and after Jango Fett had proven himself unworthy of his title by fleeing rather than staying to fight. She was Mandalorian to the bone, in every inch of her and now – now there was nowhere to go. She could try to bide her time, to see if the <em>dar’manda </em>was fool enough to imprison the remnants of the Death Watch rather than execute them but –</p><p>- But the Death Watch was <em>broken</em>. She’d seen them sitting there, staring blankly into their hands, as lost as she’d felt. To have your very self torn from you, to be used as a tool – too many were reacting with defeat, rather than anger. It was unworthy of them. At least the clone had boiled with his fury when she’d seen him, sharp and wild and calculating. Mandalorians didn’t despair, they took <em>vengeance</em> and she did not see enough of that in the prisoners who had shuffled into their escorted spaceship.</p><p>“Deep thoughts,” Master Vos said, appearing from <em>absolutely nowhere</em> and Sha Chal looked up at him sharply. She didn’t like her face exposed, didn’t like the way her dislike must shine through clearly on her face. There was something about the kiffar that put her on edge – like <em>he </em>was on edge, sharp and tense. He could laugh and mock all he liked, she knew a man ready to break when she saw one. How the <em>jetii</em> didn’t notice was beyond her.</p><p>“Yes,” she acknowledged flatly. She had little desire to exchange small talk with a <em>jetii</em>, no matter that they’d been more forgiving than any Mandalorian ever would have thought of being.</p><p>“Not in a chatty mood then?” Vos said and he smiled in a way that civilians might have thought charming. It made Sha Chal want to bury her fist in his face, see if he could smirk through a mask of blood.</p><p>She stared at him in place of a response and he laughed a little as if she were being particularly entertaining.</p><p>“Don’t worry,” he said lightly. “You’re nearly free.”</p><p><em>Why though</em>, she wanted to say. <em>Why would you risk this? </em>She kept her mouth shut and he hummed lightly.</p><p>“Any big plans when you leave?” he asked. He waved a form at her. “Have to fill it out for the Council, you see.”</p><p>Sha Chal glowered at him. He didn’t move though and she acknowledged she probably would need to give him an answer, however reluctant she was to do so.</p><p>“Finding my armour,” she said after a long moment. “Then repainting it.”</p><p>Vos’ eyes sharpened a little even as he gave her a beaming smile. “Of course,” he said cheerfully. “Colours are important to you Mandalorians, aren’t they? Yours was – blue, was it? For reliability.”</p><p>Sha Chal inclined her head shortly. She’d keep the base blue, she thought – it was still her. The rest of it though… seems she’d be joining the clones in their gold. The <em>dar’jetii </em>might not understand the message but she would and that was what mattered. A promise to herself – that she wouldn’t break like the others, that she’d have her vengeance for him daring to <em>take</em> from them, to take their minds and their futures.</p><p>“Not going bounty hunting?” Vos asked casually and Sha Chal looked at him.</p><p>“Depends whether there’s a bounty available,” she said and he crinkled his eyes at her. There was something very fake about his smile.</p><p>“If we happen to be talking about the same person,” he said casually, “There’s certainly a good-sized bounty on a man named Darth Voldemort.”</p><p>The bounty didn’t actually matter that much – she’d take it if it was available but it wasn’t a real concern. The Death Watch had their resources and it wasn’t like there was anyone else to draw on it now. She’d have a good go at draining their accounts of a chunk, move it over somewhere safe. That would let her keep moving with her network, make sure that she got the news she needed about this Voldemort.</p><p>She hummed in an echo of his earlier noise, purposely mocking.</p><p>They sat there in silence for a few long moments, Vos’ head tilting to one side. “We want him dead too,” he said finally. Sha Chal could almost feel the decision hovering in the air, a turning point. She wondered if he was the one who’d argued for her not to be shipped back with the others.</p><p>“The enemy of my enemy,” Vos said leadingly and Sha Chal ran her tongue over her teeth, thinking.</p><p>“The <em>jetii</em> were our enemy first,” she said but her words lacked conviction.</p><p>“Things change,” Vos said. “And right now, I think you might have a few too many enemies. Have you thought about reprioritising?”</p><p>She breathed out through her nose and thought through it. The <em>jetii </em>was a cultural hate, a deep contempt for their interference. In many ways their actions had lead to the downfall of Mandalore and that ached in her jaw, set her teeth to gritting… but the <em>dar’jetii </em>had been in her <em>head</em>, had stolen from her, had murdered her <em>‘alor</em>.</p><p>“We have very different approaches,” she said slowly and Vos laughed.</p><p>“Sure,” he said. “We’re looking to <em>end</em> wars whereas it looks like your Death Watch just looks to start them.”</p><p>“War is where the soul grows,” Sha Chal said, paraphrasing that famous phrase. Vos looked unimpressed.</p><p>“And does your soul feel much grown, these past few weeks?” he asked and she clenched her fists hard.</p><p>“And how are the <em>jetii</em> doing, ending wars?” she parroted back, same mocking snarl to her voice. For a second, she thought Vos might show <em>mandokarla,</em> raise his fists – but no, the <em>jetii</em> were all the same. She shook her head briefly. This wasn’t helpful.</p><p>“What would collaboration look like?” she asked and Vos let out a slow breath, leaning backwards.</p><p>“Information sharing,” he said. “You have your network, we have ours. And if you happen to hear anything about the war-“ he trailed off suggestively and she rolled her eyes.</p><p>“Your war means nothing to me,” she said. “The <em>dar’jetii – </em>only if you involve me when you take him down.”</p><p>“Sensible involvement,” Vos countered. “If you’re on the other side of the galaxy, we’re not going to put an operation on hold.” He looked at her. “The reverse applies too though – if you get an opportunity, you get the Jedi involved.”</p><p>Sha Chal grimaced a little at the thought – but the <em>jetii </em>were good enough warriors she supposed, and she was short on back up blasters at the moment. She wondered morbidly if the remnants of the Death Watch would name her <em>dar’manda</em> for working with the <em>jetii</em>. So be it though. Vengeance above honour; she could be practical.</p><p>“Fine,” she said sourly. “I’ll let you know and I’ll let you get involved if it’s <em>sensible</em>.” She half hoped it wouldn’t be. “I’ll not work with any of those who were at Galidraan though. <em>Or</em> the ones who installed the <em>dar’manda</em>.”</p><p>“Fortunately for us, the leader of the Galidraan incident happens to be in charge of the Separatist movement,” Vos said lightly. “You’ll not have to worry about that. It’s been a good few years since any of those were involved in active duty.”</p><p><em>Dooku</em>, Sha Chal thought – a charming, slick man. She’d had little enough interest in him. <em>Prioritise</em>, the <em>jetii</em> had told her so she put the thought of him to one side. “And the Duchess?” she demanded and Vos paused.</p><p>“You won’t have to work with them,” he said after a moment. He refrained from naming them though, which Sha Chal acknowledged was fair enough. They both knew what she’d do with the information in time. “Your other activities though…” he trailed off and she stilled. He <em>was </em>in the position of power here, as much as she hated it.</p><p>“What of them?” she asked stiffly and he studied her.</p><p>“It would be <em>difficult</em> if the Jedi were known to be involved with someone acting illegally,” he said and Sha Chal considered this carefully.</p><p>“If they were known and if such illegal activities were known to be conducted,” she said after a moment. “Reputation is obviously important.”</p><p>“Yes,” Vos said, confirming her thoughts – he didn’t object to her activities as such, only to the association. She could deal with that. He wasn’t finished though. “If, for example, someone was to be discovered forging identities.”</p><p><em>Huh</em>. Guess she hadn’t been as clever as she thought she had. She’d had a deal with the clone though and she didn’t like the idea of going back on her word.</p><p>“Always useful to have some spare identities when you’ve got a target on your head,” she said after a moment. “This Voldemort seemed very interested in the <em>adiik</em>. Be a shame to lose a useful tool.”</p><p>“Absolutely,” Vos said lightly. “It’s all just a matter of subtlety. I’m sure there’s no issue there.”</p><p>And he’d wanted her to be sure that they were keeping an eye on her. She’d have done the same in his position. She eyed him and inclined her head – message received.</p><p>She’d see her deal through, she thought. She had more contacts than the ones she’d been using – the <em>jetii </em>couldn’t watch everywhere, especially when they had a <em>dar’jetii</em> to hunt.</p><p>“In the interests of cooperation, anything you’d like to share about this Voldemort?” she asked. It burned to ask but – vengeance, she thought. Vengeance, and the reliability to see it through.</p>
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<a name="section0045"><h2>45. Chapter 45</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Four weeks of travel and it looked like they were finally approaching Harry’s <em>Earth</em>. It didn’t look like much to Seefer – it could have been any one of hundreds of human-friendly planets, blue and green in the distance, but from the way that Harry leant forward, almost pressing his nose against the viewport… well, he guessed it meant something to his kid.</p><p>Seefer wouldn’t admit to it, but four weeks of nothing had done him some good. There wasn’t much to do in space; Harry had tried sneaking into the cockpit a few times only to come back with an aghast look on his face to report that all the pilots seemed to do was <em>maths</em>. Astronavigation was apparently not top on his list of skills to learn – Seefer made a note to himself that he’d have to fix that at some point. It was a useful talent to have and twice as important if, for argument’s sake, you happened to want to disappear into Wild Space, off the standard hyperspace lanes…</p><p>Not that it seemed that they’d be doing <em>that </em>any time soon. Seefer wasn’t too sure where Sha Chal had ended up – the Jedi had been continuing their arguments on what to do with the Death Watch remnants when they’d left – but he thought it was probably fair to say that he shouldn’t expect new identities any time soon. It might not seem as <em>necessary</em> now, not with General Koon all but hovering like a particularly genial uncle – or <em>buir</em>, Seefer half-suspected, eyeing Wolffe with a curious eye. Nonetheless, there was something in him that <em>chafed</em> without even the prospect of an escape route.</p><p>Ricochet and Sketch still had their farming manuals tucked away on their datapads though and sometimes Seefer saw the two of them working their way through lists of planets with oddly intent looks on their face. They were quick to stow them when Wolffe came on his morale-boosting rounds but – well, he knew his <em>vode </em>well enough.</p><p>Scramble and Vee were busy with the scanning equipment even as they brought them in closer – in to the point where landmasses started to become visible. Harry squinted a little and seemed to be comparing it to some internal map. It looked close enough to what the Jedi explorers a few centuries ago had mapped out and Seefer reached out to tug Harry back from the viewpoint.</p><p>“If we’re going landside, you need to put your armour on,” he said firmly. It was one of Wolffe’s better ideas and he was glad to see General Koon hadn’t objected to the idea of putting Harry in armour – Seefer wasn’t afraid to admit that every time he saw Harry in robes near anything that might potentially be violent, he twitched.</p><p>“I know,” Harry said. His accent was stronger than it had been in months, as if seeing his home planet had brought it back in force. “I just – a bit longer?” There was something torn on his face and Seefer tried to radiate reassurance as best he could. Conversations with General Koon had suggested that Jedi could pick up on other people’s emotional state. That had been how the General had – <em>noticed</em>. The unsaid part that Seefer had nonetheless picked up on was that this could influence their own mood. He’d been careful to try and manage his own mood around Harry ever since, even conceding to General Koon’s gentle suggestion of meditation despite his own internal distaste.</p><p>There were no signs of civilisation that Seefer could see from this distance although Vee was bringing them in closer at speed.</p><p>“I think we’re over France,” Harry said quietly. “It shouldn’t be that far now.”</p><p>The clouds thickened beneath them, taking the land out of view again and Seefer knew they’d be back to relying on the navigation system again. Harry sighed through his nose and pushed away. “Nearly there,” he said and Seefer bumped their shoulders together, earning him a bright little grin.</p><p>Ricks was packing up his notes as they moved to retrieve their gear. He and Harry had been working on <em>something</em> together, something that had drawn Sen’s attention and had the three of them drawing up horrendously complicated looking maps that Sen had described as a ‘stakeholder sentiment analysis’ and Harry had described as ‘what people are thinking’. Whatever it was that had distracted them hadn’t seemed to generate any significant positivity and more often than not Seefer had seen Ricks staring at photos of feral-looking Jedi posed over scenes of destruction with a deeply troubled look on his face.</p><p>There’d been a recent debate on the Republic conscription act that Sen had been cursing their holonet connection for – apparently it hadn’t been good enough to get the recording of the Senate debate on the matter. Seefer hadn’t been too sure why Sen had been so grim about it but Sen’s argument had been short and succinct. “If they’ve got their own troops, from their own citizens, then why would they need <em>us</em> anymore?”</p><p>Nothing they could do about it, Seefer figured, other than maybe plan out their farm in a bit more detail. They were well out of whatever was going on in this backend of nowhere.</p><p>Lucian had Harry’s armour piled up, already in his own set with his blasters holstered. He gestured Harry in front of him and began to pull out the pieces. Harry should be learning to strap it all on himself, Seefer reckoned – but no harm in helping out the first few times. It was familiar enough to his kid at least, his fingers remembering that week on Christophsis before they’d rejoined Krell. He checked the straps with careful tugs, and poked Harry in the nose when he rolled his eyes. Was this teenage rebellion? Cricket had checked him out a set of parenting books, most likely to mock him, but he hadn’t been prepared for Seefer to read through them diligently. Nothing wrong with a bit of preparation.</p><p>“Padawan, could you come to the cockpit?” General Koon’s voice called through the intercom and Seefer raised an eyebrow. Harry was pretty much suited up and he gestured him ahead, scrambling his own kit on as fast as he could. It almost felt unfamiliar after a few weeks in his blacks. His HUD was reassuring when it settled back on his head though and he checked the information flow with a relaxed ease.</p><p>Seefer considered his next action for a moment and then ambled after Harry. No one had said he <em>couldn’t</em> and they’d all figured out that General Koon was ridiculously permissive. He saw no reason not to take advantage of that while he could.</p><p>There were a couple of them craned over the navigation gear – Scramble and Vee were at the controls of course, but General Koon and Wolffe were nearby, frowning over whatever readings they were getting. Harry looked fairly bewildered, his helmet tucked under his arm.</p><p>“It’s just there,” he insisted, green eyes wide. “We’re almost on top of it.”</p><p>“We’re getting interference, Commander,” Vee said. “I just – the nav system isn’t getting hold of anything.”</p><p>“The Force is strong here,” General Koon said. “It may be interfering – nexus points can do strange things.”</p><p>“Can’t we just land here though?” Harry asked and Vee grimaced.</p><p>“I can’t get a clear point, Commander,” he said. “It’s like the ship just doesn’t want to <em>go </em>there.”</p><p>“Redirect,” General Koon said. “Take us south – cruise slowly until you can get a lock on a landing.” He looked thoughtful. “Commander Wolffe, I think we’ll need to prepare for an approach by land.”</p><p>Wolffe looked displeased at the thought but Seefer knew him well enough by now to be sure that he had four or five different plans already prepared for this eventuality.</p><p>Vee kept them in tight control, throttling back the speed to almost crawling pace. They were passing over a thickly wooded forest now that had Harry pause with his head cocked, his eyes almost glazing over. “The <em>Forbidden Forest</em>,” he said, and Seefer tried to translate in his head, working his way through the partial dictionary they’d developed for Harry’s language.</p><p>“Bad?” he asked after a moment and Harry shrugged, a strange expression on his face.</p><p>“Not supposed to go in there,” he said. “It might have changed.” His voice suggested that he didn’t think this was likely and General Koon seemed – not tense, that was too strong a word, but watchful.</p><p>“There is a darkness there,” he said quietly. “It seems unlikely that we will reach the Temple without passing through it.”</p><p><em>Wonderful</em>, Seefer thought with a grimace. As long as it wasn’t Voldemort darkness, they’d manage – but he reminded himself to stow a couple of extra sonic grenades in his kit. Wolffe met his eyes, having apparently come to the exact same conclusion.</p><p>“I think,” Vee said slowly, “Scramble, double-check my markings – I think we’ve got a landing point in the clearing ahead.”</p><p>“Electronics are clearing up,” Scramble said. “Still a bit fuzzy, but it’s marking clear.”</p><p>General Koon tapped a talon thoughtfully. “No signs of civilisation?” he checked and Vee shook his head.</p><p>“Nothing coming up on the scanners sir – not even a radio wave. Seems to be clear.”</p><p>“Bring us down then, if you will Vee,” General Koon said decisively. “Wolffe, can you make sure that everyone’s ready for landing?”</p><p>“They better <em>had</em> be, this close to the ground,” Wolffe growled but turned away anyway. “Seefer, Commander,” he said and his tone gave all the orders that he didn’t need to say. Harry grumbled a little but followed obediently.</p><p>“Got the spare charges for your blaster?” Seefer checked and Harry looked at him.</p><p>“You checked it yourself!” he protested and Seefer looked at him. Harry wilted after a moment. “Yes <em>buir</em>,” he said, sounding like he was aiming for mocking but not quite able to hide the fondness. Seefer ruffled his hair.</p><p>Blaster on, lightsabre holstered, armour on, silly robe over the top because apparently General Koon thought that was important… Seefer nodded. Good enough. He had more than enough of spare charges, a couple of grenades – rations, the standard. He swerved to claim a few more sonics and was amused to note that he wasn’t the only one with the exact same idea.</p><p>Vee called for everyone to take their seats over the intercom and Seefer tugged Harry down beside him. Cricket slid in to his right and soon everyone was ready – ready and well armed, he noted, although the new medic seemed a little overwhelmed at the fact that he’d had four spare blasters pressed on him. What were they teaching the shinies? Preparation was <em>important</em>.</p><p>Vee brought them to the ground with a kind of smoothness that any Guild pilot would be jealous of and Wolffe was unstrapped on and on his feet before the engines had even changed note. “Sen, Sinker, Seefer, you’ve got the perimeter – Lucian, keep three and the Commander on the ship until we’re clear.”</p><p>It was – somehow relieving to be back in action, Seefer thought, following Sen’s quick gesture. They were out of the ship in moments, HUDs registering the area clear of life forms save for a few scuttling rodents. He could feel the adrenalin building back up, the sound of his own pulse in his ears – this was good, this is what he’d spent all thirteen years of his life preparing for.</p><p>The air was clean and human appropriate – good and oxygen rich. General Koon would have to be careful but he normally was. There was an odd kind of silence in the air, the type that came with no civilisation anywhere near. The forest at the edges of the clearing seemed to swallow the light and Seefer couldn’t see much beyond a few metres. He slunk into the trees with a careful precision. The trees were <em>old</em>, untouched, with thick webs slung between the branches – some kind of arachnid, maybe? His HUD seized for a second, blacking out before coming back online again slowly.</p><p>“HUD’s acting funny,” Seefer reported immediately – and then paused as he got a jumbled mess of audio noise and words back. His HUD juddered again, leaving him trying to peer through the helmet’s thin slits for a second instead of through the full view and Seefer swore. <em>Alright</em>, he thought, and backed out of the forest back into the clearing.</p><p>Wolffe was stood beside the landing ramp, his helmet off his head and his face grim. “All electronics seem to be playing up,” he grunted. “You see anything?”</p><p>“No life,” Seefer said. “There’s big webs in the trees though – might be nothing.” With their luck though…</p><p>Wolffe grimaced in agreement. “Nice start,” he muttered sourly.</p><p>Sen and Sinker returned with much the same report as Seefer and General Koon joined them, his talons tucked into his robes and his serenity in full view.</p><p>“It doesn’t seem like there’s anything here, sir,” Wolffe said reluctantly.</p><p>“The Force is muffled,” General Koon said. “I fear our senses are not much more use than yours here.”</p><p>“Hogwarts is over there, though,” Harry said with deep certainty. He pointed a finger somewhere to the north-west. “Can’t you feel it?”</p><p>“…Yes,” General Koon admitted after a moment. “It’s a little difficult to miss.”</p><p>“Forest’s too thick to get a speeder bike through,” Sergeant Sinker said and Wolffe muttered a curse.</p><p>“Looks like we’re just about mid-morning, sir,” he said. “Do you want to try and force through to this Hogwarts, or to set up base here?”</p><p>“I do not like the thought of separating,” General Koon said quietly. “And yet it would be foolishness to leave our ship unguarded.”</p><p>Wolffe stayed silent, apparently happy to leave the decision to their General. Seefer took the time to scan the clearing again, his HUD back online. There was something… muffled here, he thought. Muffled and dark. He looked over at Harry who was nervously tapping his fingers on his lightsabre, eyes fixed on the echoing darkness of the Forest.</p><p>“Even split to go and to guard the ship, I think,” General Koon decided finally. “We should press on today and see if we can clear if a path to Hogwarts. Vee – can you take another look at the navigation equipment? It may be that we can guide you in blind when we get through.”</p><p>“Sir,” Vee acknowledged. He sounded a little uneasy.</p><p>“Harry will have to come with me,” General Koon continued. “We may need his guidance for his school. Wolffe?”</p><p>“Myself, Boost, Sinker, Seefer,” Wolffe rattled off. “Sen and Lucian to stay. Vee and Scramble to stay.” He split out the remainder, directing the medic to stay behind – the shiny looked relieved at that.</p><p>Looking at the way the forest seemed to swallow the light, Seefer couldn’t really blame him.</p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0046"><h2>46. Chapter 46</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The forest was almost uncannily quiet, thick and muffled with the air hanging stiffly around them. The noises they made – stifled curses as they tried to make their way through pathways that animals must have laid and stumbling – were swallowed quickly. The Force felt – deep, to Harry’s senses. Master Koon had called it muffled but that wasn’t quite right, he didn’t think. It was more like there was <em>so much</em> of it here that it couldn’t be processed properly.</p><p>The sun was high overhead but little of it pierced the forest. There was a crispness to the air that spoke of the onset of Autumn and Harry tried not to feel pleased at the sense of home it brought with it. He hadn’t had the time to dwell on homesickness, not really, but the mugginess of Coruscant had been wearing and the confinement of a spaceship had made something within him restless. He knew he should be wary and he <em>was</em> but there was an echoing to the Force that felt right to him.</p><p>He didn’t have to look at the troopers to know they didn’t feel the same. They had their helmets dangling from their belts, the HUDs having malfunctioned to the point of uselessness only a few feet into the forests. Without their life sign scanners and heat sensors and everything else built into their helmets they were deeply on edge. Commander Wolffe had his hand clenched tightly around his blaster and every twitch of a sound had him looking grimmer. Seefer’s hand kept on straying to his belt where he kept his grenades. Harry hoped that he wouldn’t have to use them. He had a feeling that disturbing the silence wouldn’t work out well.</p><p>Master Koon’s rebreather was a constant hissing sound in the background. He looked as placid as ever, his eyes partially lidded underneath his goggles as he studied their surroundings. He had to feel Hogwarts too, that overwhelming, immense presence calling them onwards. It was loud enough that it was hard to hear anything else but if he focused, he thought he could hear scuttling little senses flittering about beneath it.</p><p>Harry felt – hungry, he thought. He ignored the incredulous look Boost sent him as he fumbled open a pack of nuts, chewing on them thoughtfully. It didn’t do much to the pit sitting in his stomach and he swallowed with a frown. He used the Force to help Sketch over a fallen, mossy tree and then did the same for Ricochet when the man gestured for a helping hand.</p><p>“<em>Kriff’s sake</em>,” Sinker snarled and Harry slanted his gaze over towards the Sergeant. He’d stumbled into webs slung between two trees and was trying to peel it off himself with a disgusted grimace on his face. “This stuff just <em>does not want to </em>– <em>ugh</em>.” He had handfuls of it and was scraping his hands on a tree trunk to try and remove it, but wasn’t having much luck.</p><p>“How big do you think the spiders are, for their webs to be that size?” Boost wondered and Teejay aimed a kick at him.</p><p>“Don’t jinx us!” he snapped and Wolffe snarled at both of them. They fell silent again, but not without nudges and various gestures that promised retribution on each other later.</p><p>Boost wasn’t wrong though, Harry thought. How big <em>did </em>the spiders have to be? He thought he saw a deer wrapped in a cocoon of webs and… how big would you have to be to eat a deer? They were, he thought a little morbidly, about the same size as a human.</p><p>He was still hungry though, saliva pooling in his mouth as he thought of breaking open another packet of dried fruit. They’d eaten not that long before setting out but it felt almost like something living inside of him, gnawing away. The scuttling in his head grew louder, became clearer for a second before fading away again.</p><p>He glanced up into the trees again, expecting to see something – but there was just the briefest hint of sunshine, dappling against the autumn leaves. The shadows seemed to echo underneath the trees and it was almost without thinking that Harry used the Force to pull Wolffe back in a sharp motion. Wolffe swore and the troopers scrambled for their blasters – Plo Koon had his lightsabre lit in a burst of blue light – and the tentacles cringed away from the light, drawing back with a visceral flinch that seemed to travel for a few hundred metres.</p><p>“Devil’s Snare,” Harry said and the words seemed almost flat, hanging without even the hint of an echo. “It hates the light. It’ll strangle you if you’re not careful.”</p><p>“Kriffing <em>perfect</em>,” Sinker grumbled and Seefer moved to hover by Harry’s shoulder.</p><p>“Light only, or does it require heat too?” Master Koon said intently. A thick tentacle tried to creep up around the Kel Dor’s ankle but a snap-hiss of his blade had it fleeing in a heartbeat.</p><p>“Er,” Harry said and tried to remember. “It likes the damp and dark but I think that heat’s the big thing.”</p><p>Seefer tapped at his helmet and flicked on the headlight after a second. He tried to tilt it at the writhing mass of tentacles. They flinched as if anticipating pain – and then surged back to try and reach for him. Harry lashed out with his own lightsabre, the silver light drawing a more extreme reaction from the plant.</p><p>“Heat,” Seefer said succinctly and Wolffe scowled.</p><p>“Great,” he grumbled. “And us all out of flamethrowers.”</p><p>“I do not think we can guard all of us with two lightsabres,” Master Koon said with faint dissatisfaction. “We may have to go around.”</p><p>Harry paused. He swung his lightsabre a little loosely, making the vines cringe back again. There was something – not right, he thought. He looked up at those trees again. There were webs up there, he thought, barely distinguishable in the light. In the leaves – was that something moving? He wondered, briefly, whether it would taste good, if his fangs bit in, if he ripped –</p><p>He swallowed and found himself almost surprised that the were no fangs hanging from his mouth. His venom – but no, he had no venom either. He was – not ahead, not hanging from the trees, waiting to herd them into the deeper webbing.</p><p>Wolffe was saying something now and Harry ignored him. He ran a thumb over the wood embedded in the handle of his lightsabre. <em>Lumos</em>, he thought, and the glow of his blade brightened.</p><p>“Padawan?” Master Koon asked and Harry blinked.</p><p>“Can’t you feel it?” he asked, a little surprised. He couldn’t be the only one hungering like this. “They want us to go around.”</p><p>“<em>They</em>,” Boost muttered, in tones of faint horror.</p><p>“In the trees,” Harry said. “They’re hungry – I thought I was, but it was them.” He couldn’t explain it much better than that, but it seemed to be enough for Master Koon.</p><p>“Sonic grenades but no flamethrowers,” Wolffe said, more to himself than anyone else. “We need to re-examine our provisioning approach.”</p><p>“Can’t you,” Seefer said, and then frowning, starting again. “On Christophsis, you were able to make blue fire.”</p><p>“Bluebottle flames,” Harry said. Without his wand – but no, he had his wand, didn’t he? It was awkward to try and make the movements with a glowing blade of light but it felt almost like the Force was springing to life beneath him, a burst of joy and passion flickering into flame. The Devil’s Snare reared away and Harry pushed it out and forward.</p><p>Master Koon gestured him forward, taking the rear himself. Wolffe moved to a pace or two ahead, swivelling his head in a constant scan of the surroundings. “Split the attention,” he called back to the squad. “Boost, Sinker, I want you focusing on the trees.”</p><p>They made – not good time, but better than Harry expected, directing the flames ahead of them. The forest was damp enough that nothing caught and the blue flickering light set out an eerie feel around them. He half expected to see a figure, crouched over a dying unicorn, blood around its mouth – but no, there was just the empty, echoing forest and the faintest scuttling above their heads.</p><p>“<em>Sithspit</em>,” Sinker swore. “Commander, there’s – those things are massive!” He sounded deeply unnerved and the troopers shuffled a bit. Seefer was nearly glued to Harry’s side now.</p><p>Harry tried to focus but now there was a susurrus of noise, a gentle whispering that filtered through the leaves around them. It seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere, almost hypnotic and he thought – but no, he thought determined, and pulsed the flames higher.</p><p>“They’re using the Force,” Master Koon said, sounding a little winded. “Some kind of siren effect – luring.” He was doing something in return that Harry couldn’t quite place, like a shield bubbling around them.</p><p>They were moving faster now, coming clear of the last of the Devil’s Snare. Hogwarts still blared in his mind, closer now than ever but not – those scuttling figures were bigger now, heavier in his mind. There was a yelp, someone tripping, snapping off the ground and being hauled into the air – <em>no –</em></p><p>Ricochet crashed back down to the ground, Sketch moving to stand over him. Their blasters rang out, the flashes of plasma almost horrendously out of place – the noise being stolen away – and then silence again.</p><p>“Did you hit it?” Teejay asked and Sketch grunted a negative, hauling Ricochet to his feet. It was still up there, waiting, Harry knew. The whispers were louder now, a clicking, snapping sound. The webs were vibrating between the trees, thick and heavy, and Harry shivered.</p><p>“We need to move,” he said and Master Koon nodded sharply.</p><p>“Something is coming,” his Master confirmed and Wolffe wasn’t the only one to hiss a curse.</p><p>Harry pushed forward, his lightsabre a comforting brightness now as he moved to slice directly through the webs. There wasn’t any time for subtlety, he didn’t think – the vibrations were growing heavier and the presence high up in the leaves was being joined by others, thousands of legs passing through the air, watching them, following them. He was <em>so hungry</em> but <em>she </em>was coming and that was- that was-</p><p>He made a throwing motion with his hand and sent a body flying through the air. It was – <em>massive</em>, the size of a horse, and it made a screeching sound that echoed through the bones of his head. Another came jumping down and another and there were ropes of webs flying through the air – blasters firing and the scent of burning flesh – Teejay went reeling, a fang the length of his arm embedded and-</p><p>“<em>Strangers</em>,” a voice said, with all the force of the forest behind it and Harry shuddered.</p><p>“<em>You come into our lands</em>,” it said – <em>she</em> said, and the words were almost English but not really.</p><p>“We’re passing through!” Harry shouted back hoarsely and there was a ripple of surprise.</p><p>“<em>It speaks?”</em> the voice said and from out of the shadows a leg rippled, reformed, and then slunk out into a beast of nightmares.</p><p>It was a spider in the same way that a lightsabre was a knife, Harry thought. Towering twice the height of any of the men, eyes glowing yellow and powered with a kind of malice that had Harry inhaling sharply. It seemed to be formed more from shadow than flesh, the edges of its being flickering in and out of existence as it prowled forward in a distinctly inhuman movement.</p><p>“We’re – we’re just passing through,” Harry said, his voice shaky. “To go to Hogwarts.”</p><p>“<em>The nexus,” </em>the thing said thoughtfully. “<em>You go to the centre.</em>”</p><p>“We don’t mean any harm,” Harry said and a leg was raised at him.</p><p>“<em>Perhaps not,” </em>it said. “<em>And yet you come onto our lands without a word to us, you wield your fire – you harm our children.”</em></p><p>“Your children were hunting us!” Harry protested and the thing clicked at him chidingly.</p><p>“<em>And why should they not?”</em> it asked. “<em>Meat can be hard to come by and you present such a tempting package.”</em></p><p>Harry couldn’t find the words to protest that and he gnawed on his lip. Master Koon was listening intently, no doubt picking out what words he could.</p><p>“We – no harm,” the Kel Dor said haltingly, and the beast let out a noise that could have been contempt. “Come peace,” Master Koon tried again and Harry could feel the way he was broadcasting in the Force now.</p><p>His presence was almost echoed, he thought – a Lightness that drew attention in the echoing darkness of the forest. Harry listened as Master Koon and the thing continued to speak, halting peacefulness being met by contempt. He raised his own presence, tried to push out that welcoming light and the hunger slipped away for a second to be met by curiosity.</p><p><em>“Trespassers!”</em> the thing was accusing now, spitting fury and venom. Teejay was moaning softly to the side. <em>“Your people came here before, accused us of serving their enemy. We are acromantula, we do not serve!”</em></p><p>“Sirs,” Sketch said, shifting uneasily. The smaller spiders were continuing to filter in, bumping against them with a kind of mockery about them. Ricochet was hovering over Teejay as two of the spiders came crowding in closer to him, clicking merrily.</p><p><em>“Just a taste,” </em>one of them wheedled and Harry snapped a “No!” without thinking on it.</p><p>There was a silence and Harry swallowed at the fury that was building. He looked up into those massive yellow eyes, several of them fixed on him dangerously.</p><p>“<em>You tell my children no?”</em> the thing whispered and Harry tightened his grip.</p><p>“You don’t get to eat us,” he said. “You don’t get to hurt any of mine.”</p><p>They were all shifting now, fingers creeping back onto triggers and Harry let a wisp trek out to those little curious minds that were now nudging closer. He raised his lightsabre, pushed the Force into it again and the spiders scuttled back at the light.</p><p><em>“We have hunted here for millenia,” </em>the thing said. “<em>These lands were granted to us by Aragog the Forefather. We are the eternal.”</em></p><p>“But you’re not the only ones this forest belongs to,” Harry said and behind him, there was an inquisitive whinny.</p><p>“What the-” Ricochet breathed and a silvery head nudged the spider in front of him aside, a horn reaching down to touch against his forehead briefly. There were more of them now, twenty, thirty, shining bright with a kind of internal light against the murk of the forest. The biggest of them, a massive stallion, came to a halt in front of the shadowed thing.</p><p>“<em>Them?</em>” the thing said in vicious contempt and the stallion dipped its head.</p><p><em>“They will not guard your every move,”</em> the shadowy spider finally acknowledged. “<em>Today you travel.” </em>Its eyes gleamed at them. “<em>Remember that you trespass though.”</em></p><p>“Thank you,” Master Koon said gracefully. He couldn’t hide the faint note of awe that had crept into his voice as more of the unicorns came crowding in. “We remember.”</p><p>A little golden foal was nudging at Harry now and he exhaled heavily. “They’ll guide us,” he told the group. He looked over to Teejay and Master Koon levitated him up.</p><p>“Let us move quickly then,” he said. “The sooner we are to safety, the sooner we may treat our wounded.”</p><p>It felt a little like the vision had, being escorted out of the forest by a herd of unicorns. Harry moved to hover by Teejay, trying to split his attention – there was some kind of venom, he could slow it he thought but it had sunk in deep-</p><p>Distracted though he was, he could feel the moment they passed the boundaries of the forest, the darkness lightening almost immediately and then sun creeping back into visibility. There were audible exhales from the men and the unicorns nudged into them, leaned in heavily. Master Koon, too, seemed to recognise where they were now – there was no path, only thick, wild grass and an array of plants creeping across the grounds, but just there, they’d round the corner-</p><p>- And there, rising high above the surroundings, Hogwarts still stood.</p>
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<a name="section0047"><h2>47. Chapter 47</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Man, this chapter did <i>not</i> want to get written. I think there's a strong lessons to be learned re: why actually having a plot planned out for your story is a good thing. :/ I'll try to get back on track for weekly posts!</p><p>(Also, thank you all so much for the response on the last chapter - I really love seeing everyone's reactions!)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Wolffe was cursing softly as he tried to set up a radio signal back to the ship – no luck, but Seefer didn’t think any of them had expected there to have been. He sat next to one of the <em>unicorns</em>, leaning against a haunch. It felt almost like his mind was quiet and he could just watch what was going on. He didn’t know the last time that he’d felt like this.</p><p>Ahead of them, the battered castle still loomed. It – Seefer couldn’t find the words to describe it, but there was a presence around it that took his breath away. Even with two towers collapsed and the unmistakeable splash of carbon against the walls it seemed vivid in a way that the Jedi Temple couldn’t hope to be. It was tiny, comparatively, of course. The Temple stretched for miles, upwards and outwards, a distinctive shape even against the Coruscant skyline. <em>Hogwarts</em> was a building that could house – Seefer took a wild guess, perhaps a few thousand. And yet-</p><p>Behind him, Teejay gasped and General Koon murmured a few low words to Harry. Seefer glanced back but there was no serious concern on his kid’s face, so he let his gaze drift away again.</p><p>He should be thinking – planning maybe, or keeping watch. Instead he found himself just breathing. Wolffe’s eyes flickered over him for a second, but didn’t call him to task so Seefer stayed sitting.</p><p>The grounds must have been beautiful once. They were overgrown now, a wild tangle of grass and undergrowth that could hide any number of things. The air was crisp but not uncomfortable for a human, even with his helmet off to the side. He wondered if that made it good farmland – Ricochet and Sketch would know, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask. He glanced their way; the two were nudged against each other, seemingly struck with the same fascination with the school that he’d been.</p><p>“Don’t think you’re going to get that working, sir,” Sergeant Sinker said easily and Commander Wolffe scowled at him. He conceded after a moment though, tucking the radio back into his back.</p><p>“Kriffing Force nonsense,” he muttered mutinously. “Force <em>nexus</em>. No one trained us for this.” He couldn’t quite keep the irritation in his voice though as one of the mares began to lip at his hair and Boost snickered.</p><p>“I think,” Harry said behind them, and General Koon hummed.</p><p>“Yes,” he said, sounding pleased. “That would be the last of it.”</p><p>There was colour in Teejay’s face now and he rotated his shoulder a little gingerly. Harry swatted at him sternly.</p><p>“<em>No</em>,” he said and for a second he sounded like a proper healer, ready to strap someone down to their bed. “It’s not fully healed, I’ve just got the poison out.” He paused and looked thoughtful. “It feels – easier, here,” he said vaguely. “I think I should try to do all the chips here if I can. The Force is more responsive.”</p><p>“We shall see,” General Koon said meditatively. “It does not do to build the sabre before the crystal is sourced, after all.”</p><p>Harry squinted at him, as if trying to make sense of that. “Oh,” he said after a moment. “Like, don’t count your <em>chickens</em> before they <em>hatch</em>.”</p><p>Seefer noted the words down internally for further investigation. Languages took so long to learn, he thought a little reluctantly. <em>Especially</em> when there was no easy dictionary to consult. How Harry had done it in the middle of a warzone, with <em>Krell</em> there-</p><p>Well, that time seemed long ago now.</p><p>“Do we move, sir?” Wolffe asked General Koon, who looked up at the sky thoughtfully.</p><p>“I think it best we do,” he said. “You said that your planet has a 24-hour cycle, Padawan?”</p><p>“Yes,” Harry said, also glancing up. “It’s <em>Autumn</em>, so the sun should be setting at about six – I’d guess we’ve got another two hours or so before it gets really dark.”</p><p>“Then we should look to assess whether we might stay indoors,” General Koon said. “I do not think it would be sensible to chance a trip back to our ship in the dark.”</p><p>Seefer wasn’t the only one who shuddered at the thought of that. The horse-sized arachnids were bad enough and adding that <em>thing</em> to them, the enormous, shadow-wrapped beast… The unicorn beneath him shifted slightly and the fear seemed buffered for a few moments.</p><p>Wolffe nodded slowly and Seefer pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the mournful look the unicorn sent him. He hesitated for a second and then patted its nose briefly, wishing he’d thought to take his gloves off to feel what that short hair actually felt like. It levelled a short look at him and then in a rolling of muscles found its way to its feet again. There was a heavy snort and a nosing at his hair, and then the herd was on the move again.</p><p>“Do you think we could persuade them to come with us?” Boost asked, sounding a little sad at the retreat.</p><p>“I think we’ve got to do the next part by ourselves,” Harry said. He had a thoughtful frown on his face and Seefer checked over him instinctively – he didn’t seem the worse for wear from the healing, which was unusual.</p><p>“Yes,” General Koon said. “But what the next part <em>is</em>…” he trailed off, folding his talons in his robe sleeves for a second. “Nonetheless, we must continue.”</p><p>General Koon took the lead this time, Wolffe quick to dog his heels. It was easy enough to fall into a standard squad formation behind them, nudging Teejay and Harry into the middle – although Harry side-eyed them all for their efforts.</p><p>The aura, for lack of a better word, around Hogwarts seemed far lighter than it had in the Forest. The sun was getting low in the sky as they got closer, but there was clear birdsong in the air and the healthy rustle of small animals bolting when they got too close. Seefer took note of the small furred creature that bounded away from them – depending on how long they had to stay, it might be worth setting up traps to boost their rations. Wolffe had likely already taken that into account but it never hurt to keep track of these things.</p><p>“That used to be the Quidditch field,” Harry said pointing vaguely over to their right.</p><p>Quidditch… had been the <em>insane </em>sport played on the thin wooden sticks, hadn’t it? Seefer wasn’t quite sure how they’d fit the engines into those things, nor why anyone had thought it appropriate to put kids in the air to beat flying balls at each other but there was a lot about Force users that he didn’t understand.</p><p>“I guess all the brooms are gone though…” Harry said, a little quietly. “It’s a shame, we could have used those to fly back to the ship.”</p><p>“We don’t yet know what your creche mates did to preserve the area,” General Koon said. “They seemed very certain that some writings would survive – perhaps there will be other items persisting besides those.”</p><p>“Maybe,” Harry said, sounding a little dubious. “The broom shed was closer to the castle anyway.”</p><p>The tour continued as they got closer, Harry projecting brief images of what the place had looked like in his time. It was an odd dissonance to compare the two. “The stone circle’s over there – that’s where the wards are laid, I think.”</p><p>Seefer squinted in that direction and there were a few uninspiring looking rocks in the distance – he couldn’t see anything interesting about them. Beyond them looked to be broken down remnants of buildings with plants bursting out of them.</p><p>“The greenhouses,” Harry said at Seefer’s enquiring look. “Er – it’s probably best not to go in that direction. There were a lot of dangerous plants and I don’t know what would have survived.”</p><p>“Dangerous like the tentacle plant?” Boost asked. He sounded alarmingly eager.</p><p>“That’s a first-year plant,” Harry said absently. “It’s not too bad. But we weren’t allowed in the upper year greenhouses – apparently things like mandrakes could be fatal if you weren’t wearing the right equipment, and that was just for the second-years.”</p><p>Man-killing plants, Seefer thought fatalistically. <em>Wonderful</em>. Just the kind of thing you wanted to keep near a building full of children.</p><p>“<em>Boost</em>,” Wolffe said warningly and Teejay muffled a short laugh.</p><p>They were getting close now, moving up a steep hill to an imposing-looking door. It looked to be made of wood – Seefer couldn’t see how it was still in one piece, but it was enormous and scarred from blasts of what had presumably been magic attacks.</p><p>“How do you get that open?” Boost asked, sounding fascinated. Harry looked at him.</p><p>“Normally they’re kept open,” he said. “But there’s a porter’s door embedded in it – when we get closer, you’ll see. That’s used when we’re past curfew.”</p><p>“Were you often past curfew?” Seefer asked drily and Harry’s grin was a wholly abashed thing.</p><p> “Not <em>often</em>,” he said and Seefer wasn’t the only one who snorted.</p><p>“There is something,” General Koon said, staring up at the heavy stone walls. “A presence.”</p><p>Seefer’s grip on his blaster tightened, some of the peace the unicorns had brought seeping away.</p><p>“Yes,” Harry said. “It’s like Hogwarts but <em>more</em>.”</p><p>“Is the building sentient?” General Koon asked and Harry’s shrug was an expressive thing. Seefer was pretty sure the expression on his face matched that shrug because – a <em>sentient building</em>? First their electronics not working, then the kriffing shadow spiders, now a sentient building. He thought he understood what General Koon was saying about a presence though. There was a sense of something… watching, not malicious but eyes heavy on them.</p><p>They were onto paving stones now and Seefer frowned down on them. He would have expected them to have been broken up by weeds but they were almost absurdly clean beneath his feet. He looked back up at that towering door and – no, no matter how he thought it through, it shouldn’t still be standing. He saw the smaller door embedded in it though – the <em>porter’s </em>door, Harry had called it. He half-expected it to swing open when General Koon placed a gentle hand against it but – no, that would have been ridiculous.</p><p>“Locked,” General Koon said.</p><p>“Grenade?” Sketch offered and General Koon tilted his head at him.</p><p>“I believe that we should leave that for a final option,” he said peaceably. “If there is a sentient presence, I would prefer not to start with violence.”</p><p>“We didn’t start violence with the spiders,” Wolffe grumbled. “What are you suggesting, sir?”</p><p>“Harry?” General Koon asked and Harry blinked at them before moving to the front of the group. They watched, Seefer half-expecting him to use the Force to unlock it somehow but instead his kid reached up and – knocked?</p><p>“Normally the <em>charms</em> respond to students,” he said and – yes, after a long moment, the door creaked open noisily. Seefer distrusted it on principle. It all felt far too easy.</p><p>“It might be a trap,” Wolffe said.</p><p>Harry picked up a rock and threw it through the opening. It landed noisily on the other side and skittered across stone flooring but – nothing. The troopers all exchanged loaded looks, but General Koon’s eyes were fixed on the darkness beyond the entrance.</p><p>“Cautiously,” General Koon said and Seefer wasn’t sure if any of them could react any way <em>other </em>than cautiously. The General ducked in through the door and Seefer felt his hands almost cramp around his blaster for tension. After a few moments, the General gestured them onwards.</p><p>The temperature dropped almost immediately on passing inside, the remnants of sun heat evaporating. Seefer blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the darkness and Harry muttered something that could be a curse in his own language before gesturing his lightsabre around. “<em>Lumos</em>,” he was saying rapidly, and balls of light floated up to stick against the walls.</p><p>“It’s the back entrance, so it’s not as grand,” Harry said – and certainly, compared to the Jedi Temple it seemed muted. And yet there was something that felt <em>right</em> about it, grey stone worked into arches and a wide corridor that could probably take ten men abreast. There was no dust, which struck Seefer as strange.</p><p>“We should – the Great Hall’s probably our best bet to set up a base,” Harry said. “It doesn’t move often so it’s a good centre point.” He looked troubled as he looked over the walls. “The portraits are gone.”</p><p>There was a noise in the background that had them flinching. It sounded – like wind, slowly picking up but there was nowhere for it to come from. Behind them, the little door slammed shut.</p><p>Ricochet was the closest to it and he spun to the door to try and force it open. It was stuck though. Harry moved to his side and Seefer watched tensely as he muttered a few words. It didn’t budge.</p><p>“Eyes up!” Wolffe snapped firmly. It was a straight corridor so at least there wasn’t too much to cover.</p><p>The whistling picked up and the balls of light flickered for a second. It sounded – like a word, Seefer thought. Long a drawn out, someone calling in Harry’s language. <em>“Whooo?”</em></p><p>“<em>Is someone there?” </em>Harry called and Seefer could feel a breeze against his face. He swallowed.</p><p>“Sir!” Wolffe called, and General Koon raised a taloned hand.</p><p>“<em>Whooo comes?”</em> an eerie voice called. It was deep and echoing, shuddering through the halls. Kriff, Seefer thought. Was it <em>all </em>going to be like this? The lights were flickering heavily now and beyond them the stones seemed to be shifting. There was a clanking sound and Seefer wasn’t sure who shot first but the empty sets of metal armour kept coming towards them, even with a smoking hole bored through them.</p><p>“<em>We’re friendly!”</em> Harry shouted, and then, <em>“Hermione sent us</em>!”</p><p>It didn’t seem to do any good though. The corridor was closing off, stones flying in to brick them in. There was a figure beyond the suits of armour, pale and glowing. Seefer shot again, but the blaster bolt passed straight through it.</p><p>“<em>Who walks in Hogwarts’ walls?” </em>the booming voice echoed.</p><p>Harry seemed taken aback as he caught sight of the figure, a bolt of recognition seeming to hit him. “Sir Nick?” he said, but the wind whipped the words away. One of the suits of armour had reached General Koon, who used the Force to throw it back against a wall. The helmet came rolling off to reveal nothing beneath it, but the armour was standing up again, replacing it with barely a moment’s pause.</p><p>“Sir Nick, it’s me,” Harry cried. “It’s Harry – I’m one of your Gryffindors!”</p><p>And everything seemed to <em>stop</em>.</p>
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<a name="section0048"><h2>48. Chapter 48</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry’s breath sounded very loud in the air, now that the winds had stopped. The suits of armour clattered noisily to the ground, the pieces spinning apart and the troopers seemed uncertain where to keep their blasters trained. Master Koon let one taloned hand drop slightly but he didn’t turn his lightsabre off.</p><p>“<em>Harry…” </em>that ghostly voice said, sounding puzzled. It reverberated through him, a shudder deep in his bones.</p><p>“Yes,” Harry called. “Sir Nick – we don’t mean any harm. We’re just looking for information.”</p><p>The glowing form came closer and a few twitchy trigger fingers sent blaster bolts scattering through Sir Nick. The ghost ignored them, glazed eyes jerking weakly between the group. “<em>You are intruders,” </em>he said but he sounded more confused than furious now.</p><p>“Hogwarts’ halls are always open,” Harry protested. He let his lightsabre drop slightly, ignoring Seefer’s abrupt nudge to try and get him to raise it again.</p><p>“<em>No,” </em>Sir Nick said, although his face was now creased in a deep frown. “<em>We are the last bastion, the protectors. We have been tasked to guard this place from those who would steal from us.”</em></p><p>“For how long?” Harry asked. He couldn’t help but look around the empty hallways and feel a sudden pang of sympathy. Sir Nick might be a ghost but – to not pass on, after all this time?</p><p><em>“Years,” </em>Sir Nick said. “<em>Years and years</em>.” His normal pompous tones sounded sepulchral, mournful. <em>“We sleep while we wait and Hogwarts awakens us when we are needed.”</em></p><p>Master Koon stayed silent, but Harry knew he was listening intently to catch what he could understand. He inclined his head slightly as if to beckon Harry to continue.</p><p>“Who asked you to do that?” he asked and Sir Nick tilted his head to one side. There were some bitten-off curses as it chose to flop over, holding onto his neck by a few sinews, before Sir Nick straightened it back up again.</p><p>“<em>Who?” </em>Sir Nick asked, sounding more thoughtful. “<em>The children of Hogwarts. When all was lost, they retreated back to her halls and sought her protection for their sacrifice. And their sacrifice </em>was great.” His voice was starting to slip back into normal tones now, his voice seeping away from the hallways and into spoken words again, human.</p><p>“But you say you are not intruders,” Sir Nick said. “Who, then, are you?”</p><p>“Oh,” Harry said. He shouldn’t have thought – Sir Nick had only known him for a year, after all. It still hurt a little, to know how much had moved on without him. “I’m Harry – Harry Potter. I was at Hogwarts before. In Gryffindor.”</p><p>“Harry Potter,” Sir Nick said, rolling the name over carefully. “I should know that name, shouldn’t I?” He seemed far away for a moment and there was the sense of something <em>big</em>, a giant crouching down in an attempt to whisper, and Sir Nick patted one of the walls after a moment. “Of course,” he said soothingly. “Of course, my dear.”</p><p>“Well, Hogwarts seems to think we should let you talk further so I suppose we must,” the ghost said. He straightened his ruff a little sharply, his mannerisms seeming to creep closer to how Harry remembered them the longer they talked. “I believe there were questions I was supposed to ask, before permitting entry.”</p><p>Harry felt a little worried at that. He wasn’t sure how much he remembered of his spells now – it had been so long, and what if Sir Nick asked him something complicated?</p><p>“What if I can’t answer?” he asked cautiously and Sir Nick directed a benevolent smile his way.</p><p>“I do suggest you allow me to worry about that,” he said and Harry didn’t trust that <em>at all</em>.</p><p>“Commander?” Sinker asked, and Harry realised that the troopers were reacting to his body language.</p><p>“There’s – questions to answer,” Harry said in an undertone. “I don’t know how he’ll react if I get them wrong so maybe,” he shrugged. Although given how they’d fared a few moments ago maybe there wasn’t much they could do. Master Koon was moving up beside him though, talons squeezing at his shoulder for a brief moment.</p><p>“I trust that you will answer now?” Sir Nick asked pointedly and for a second the winds were rustling around their feet. “I mislike this talking in code, young Harry.”</p><p>“Sorry,” Harry said quickly. “I was just – they don’t understand you very well.”</p><p>“Ah,” Sir Nick said knowingly. “<em>Foreigners</em>. Are they the French or the Spaniards?”</p><p>“Er,” Harry said. “They’re <em>Jedi</em> and er – <em>troopers</em>.”</p><p>“Hm,” Sir Nick said. “Very foreign lands then.” His eyes were narrowed and suspicious for a moment, before he swept his gaze onto Harry once more. “But it is you that we are testing, and not them.”</p><p>“Yes,” Harry said, hoping his nerves didn’t show in his voice. “So – what did you want me to answer then?”</p><p>“I was set four questions,” Sir Nick said meditatively. “You must answer all four correctly to be permitted within these halls.” His smile was wide and pleasant. “None have done so yet.”</p><p>Harry swallowed hard before he nodded.</p><p>“The first question was given to me by <em>Hermione Granger</em>,” Sir Nick said. “She asks – <em>what did Hagrid name the thing that bit Ron</em>?”</p><p>Harry blinked rapidly. <em>That </em>he hadn’t expected. The thing that bit Ron – that would be, “Norbert,” he said and Sir Nick inclined his head solemnly.</p><p>“The second question was from <em>Dean Thomas</em>,” he said. “He asks – <em>what did I write on your banner, for your first Quidditch game?”</em></p><p>“Er,” Harry said, desperately trying to scramble back the memory. The fear that had come, surrounded by so many people bigger than him and then, draped across one of the towers, scrawled over Neville’s bedsheet – “Potter for President.”</p><p>“There was one other who could answer those questions,” Sir Nick said gently. “He got no further.”</p><p>Harry grimaced a little.</p><p>“<em>Luna Lovegood</em> asks <em>what spell did we talk of, on the day of the solstice?</em>”</p><p>Harry wracked his brain for the answer – the vision seemed far away now, but there had been that feeling of awe, a silvery hare bounding away- “The patronus spell,” he said.</p><p>The air seemed less hostile as Nick inclined his head once again. “Then my final question,” he said. “<em>What did your friends wish for you, with your crystals?”</em></p><p>And that had Harry glancing down at his silver blade, humming contentedly by his side. He could almost feel them there for a second, as they’d jostled beside him in Ilum. “Resolution,” he said firmly. “And flexibility. And the balance between them.”</p><p>Sir Nick swept the suits of armour to the sides of the corridor as behind him the path opened back up again in an unfurling of bricks that reminded Harry of nothing so much as the entrance to Diagon Alley.</p><p>“Welcome home,” Sir Nick said grandly and with a gesture the torches on the walls flared up brightly. “We have been waiting for you for a long time now.”</p><p>“I’m sorry it took so long,” Harry said and Sir Nick waved it away with an elegant gesture. “Was it just you that stayed behind?”</p><p>“Oh no,” Sir Nick said. “Some of us did pass on as our business finished – the Grey Lady, for example, chose to leave when her diadem was destroyed and the Baron followed her shortly. The Friar has always been willing to wait while there’s a magical child in need, however, and Myrtle is waiting for her killer to pass on. There are a few of us left although we do try to take our turns on who has to wake. It is rather disorientating after all.”</p><p>Harry nodded and looked over to the troopers. “Should I – introduce you?” he asked hesitantly, switching back to Basic. Master Koon was watching the ghost thoughtfully.</p><p>“That would be kind of you, Padawan,” he said and Harry nodded sharply.</p><p>“So – um, he was my house ghost. Sir Nick.”</p><p>“Sir Nicholas de <em>Mimsy-Porpington, young sir</em>,” Sir Nick said sharply, clearly recognising his own name if not the rest of the words.</p><p>“Would you prefer Nearly Headless Nick?” Harry asked with a cheeky grin, and Sir Nick sniffed unhappily.</p><p>“I suppose Sir Nick will do if you must,” he allowed.</p><p>“So, Sir Nick – this is my teacher, <em>Master</em> Plo Koon, and our,” he struggled over the words for a second before settling on, “Our men,” and introducing them one by one.</p><p>“Men-at-arms?” Sir Nick asked and Harry paused.</p><p>“I guess?” he said uncertainly but Sir Nick didn’t seem to notice.</p><p>“Good, good,” he said absentmindedly. “I don’t know why wizards did away with the tradition. Far more seemly to have a few men to hand when you need them. Now, where were you headed to?”</p><p>“I thought the Great Hall first,” Harry said a little uncertainly and Sir Nick nodded.</p><p>“Not the heart, but a sufficient location,” Sir Nick said. “Hogwarts will make sure we have a straight path this time but do not count on it for future. She does like her little jokes after all.”</p><p>Harry nodded uncertainly. That sounded like maybe things were shifting around even more than they had in his time.</p><p>“And then – the library, maybe?” he said and Sir Nick hummed.</p><p>“The main library, or the SITH library?”</p><p>Harry could feel everyone’s attention sharpen at that word. “The Sith library?” he asked cautiously and Sir Nick blinked at him owlishly.</p><p>“Why yes,” Sir Nick said. “Hermione and her SITH set up here before the end of the war. Surely you know this, my boy?”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“We’ve had another request come in,” Mace Windu said heavily. The council was short a few members, not least Plo Koon who was – they hoped – deep into his mission to recover any information he could on this new Sith. That didn’t stop the onward march of requests and orders and pleas that had become the Jedi’s new normal. “Plague spreading over Denon. We’ve been asked to keep this quiet – they’re key manufacturers of half our fleet’s hyperdrive parts.”</p><p>“Ask for healer support, do they?” Yoda asked. “MediCorps presence, perhaps-”</p><p>“The MediCorps are occupied with the Medical Stations,” Ki-Adi-Mundi said ponderously. The Senate had approved the construction of the massive medical ships almost ten months ago and they were just now coming into commission. They were sorely needed, with the unpleasant expectation that the clones would be the heaviest users. “And with something of this level of delicacy, perhaps one of our Masters would be better suited.”</p><p>Depa Billaba hummed, looking over the mission details. “It doesn’t look like there’s any hostile presence expected,” she said. “Perhaps one of our healers and a knight? Master Unduli might be able to accompany a healer, and that would give young Offee a chance to prove herself as part of her trials.”</p><p>“It’s the Retreat of the Moons for the next two weeks,” Shaak-Ti said firmly. “Both Master Unduli and Padawan Offee will be in meditation retreat as their culture requires.”</p><p>There were vaguely discontent noises over that but no real protest. The war had not yet got to such desperate straits that they’d ask their knights to abandon the cultural requirements – and Master Unduli was known to be particularly observant. Perhaps, Mace thought a little sadly, perhaps next year it would be different but for this year the 41<sup>st</sup> were due down-time and they could accommodate the Mirialans’ needs.</p><p>“Perhaps some troopers?” Eeth Koth suggested. “As for healers – it looks like Mirr-tan Eshki has the most relevant experience, given Vokara’s out inspecting the new Medical Stations.”</p><p>Mace looked around for any protests and seeing none, approved the orders. “A squadron of troopers to accompany her and we’ll seal the mission records,” he said. “It’s right to classify this – we don’t want any noise escaping to the Separatists. Depa, would you be able to brief her in person?”</p><p>Depa nodded placidly, accepting a copy on her datapad.</p><p>“On the next order of business,” Mace said. “We’ve had a request from Felucia…”</p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0049"><h2>49. Chapter 49</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sky was clear above the Great Hall and Harry had forgotten how comforting it was, to see the spreading rays of a sun <em>he </em>recognised setting and the slow rise of stars that he’d learnt through painstaking astronomy lessons. He hadn’t thought himself homesick, not really, but Hogwarts had been the first place that he’d ever really felt like he’d belonged.</p><p>It was odd, admittedly, to see those ancient banners hanging without a hall full of children chattering beneath them. The benches stood unused, the tables looking as though he’d only left them the day before. When he glanced up to the head table he half expected Professor Dumbledore to be standing to greet them all, hands peeking out from beneath garish star-robed sleeves. There was nothing though, obviously, only Nick floating through the Gryffindor table mournfully.</p><p>He wondered what the troopers were thinking. The Great Hall that had seemed so enormous to him wasn’t even the size of a Star Destroyer’s cafeteria, for all that the arches spread far higher above them. Compared to the Jedi Temple’s boundless halls? Harry couldn’t help but find himself defensively proud of the place he’d lived for a year, though. He dared anyone to name Hogwarts <em>lesser</em> because he could feel the Force seeped into every stone, every thread of tapestry, in a way that made the Jedi Temple feel like a flat painting compared to something <em>real</em>.</p><p>Master Koon was looking around with mild curiosity in the tilt of his head. The noise of his breathing apparatus had long since faded into the background for Harry but now he found himself wondering if there was a magical equivalent – there were mermaids, weren’t there? And negotiations between the mer and wizards at some point (in Binns’ rare divergence from the Goblin wars) so presumably there was some way of breathing in different atmospheres… but that had been magic and not the Force, and Harry was still foggy about the difference between the two.</p><p>“You propose this as a base, Padawan?” Master Koon asked and Harry thought that over with a frown.</p><p>“I’d prefer the Gryffindor tower,” he admitted – it hadn’t been one of the broken towers, and there was part of him that yearned to sit in front of a cozy fire. “It’s just that the Great Hall tends to be the place most fixed in place, and there’s always directions available when it moves. If we set up somewhere else we might end up underneath the Lake overnight.”</p><p>“Uh,” Boost said and Harry blinked at the looks of confusion aimed at him.</p><p>“What?” he asked, a bit perplexed himself. “I told you that Hogwarts moved.”</p><p>“We understood that the staircases moved,” Master Koon said a little delicately and Harry shrugged at them.</p><p>“No, the rooms move too,” he said. “We used to have to get an updated map every morning – the charms classroom really liked wandering about the castle.” He chewed on his lip. “The house dorms <em>tend </em>to stay in place, but one time when the Weasley twins blew up half the common room, the Gryffindor tower relocated to the dungeons in protest. Professor McGonagall had to negotiate with the common room for <em>ages</em> to persuade it to move back.”</p><p>“Some Sith temples have a certain level of sentiency,” Master Koon said. He sounded thoughtful, but Harry could feel a note of wariness that set the troopers on edge. They’d been like that since Sir Nick had mentioned Hermione’s SITH which-</p><p>“You’ve met Hermione,” Harry said bluntly. “And Dean and Luna and some of the others. Did they feel like Sith to you?”</p><p>Master Koon conceded the point with a slow inclination of his head. “I certainly cannot offer judgement on your friends without knowing more of the situation they were in and the actions they chose to take,” he said mildly. “Nonetheless, it is a very loaded word for us as Jedi.”</p><p>Harry shrugged uncomfortably. “Well, if they’ve left a library that should give us more information, shouldn’t it?” he asked. “So you can make a decision then.”</p><p>“Perhaps,” Master Koon said and Harry scowled a little.</p><p>“They fought against Voldemort,” he began – and stopped at Sir Nick’s clear flinch, visible from across the room. It seemed like the ghost was attuned to that word, even in a different language.</p><p>“Do not <em>say that name</em>,” he hissed vehemently. “It has been set to Taboo for a reason.”</p><p>“I,” Harry said, torn between the two conversations. He shook himself after a moment – defending Hermione could wait. “What does Taboo mean?”</p><p>“<em>He</em> set a tracer on his name,” Nick more breathed than said. “To know when anybody dared name him, so that his enforcers could come for them. Grindelwald may have defeated the last of his bodies, but his spirit lingers even so – Myrtle’s continued unbeing shows <em>that</em> well enough.”</p><p>“He doesn’t have any enforcers,” Harry said stubbornly. “Not anymore.” But that hadn’t been entirely true had it? He’d had the Mandalorians to use as puppets. Who was to say that he hadn’t gathered more? And even without enforcers, the thought of Voldemort popping up in front of them now, the glow of a red lightsabre lighting his face… Harry grimaced unhappily.</p><p>“Apparently,” he said, switching back to Basic for the benefit of Master Koon and the troopers. “Vol- er, the Sith who attacked us, set up a tracer on his name so he could hear it whenever someone said it.” He shrugged a little uneasily. “I don’t know what the distance would be like on something like that or even if it’s still active but – I guess we’re not supposed to use his name?”</p><p>“I haven’t felt anything in the Force to suggest that someone might be alerted,” Master Koon said thoughtfully. “And yet you are right, Padawan – it is always best to be cautious.”</p><p>Wolffe looked like he was twitching with the effort not to go and – Harry didn’t know exactly, but he wouldn’t put it past the Commander to somehow set up a full series of bombardment units given half the chance.</p><p>“I do not like being out of contact with our men while there is this uncertainty,” Master Koon said. Two talons pressed together in a rare physical expression of his thoughts. “Perhaps if we open negotiations with the residents of the Forest, they may be more amenable to letting us pass?”</p><p>Harry was absolutely certain he wasn’t the only one directing an incredulous look the Kel Dor’s way. He thought of trying to sit down to negotiations with that figure of nightmare and an incongruous image sprung up of Master Koon pouring out tea – perhaps one cup for each limb of the enormous spider? He managed to stifle his half-hysterical snicker at Master Koon’s reproachful look.</p><p>“Perhaps you might ask your <em>Sir Nick</em>,” Master Koon said. “Is there a traditional way to open discussions with the beings of the Forest?”</p><p>“They wanted to <em>eat us</em>, sir,” Sergeant Sinker said blankly and Seefer made his disagreement visible in his shuffle.</p><p>“Harry would have to translate for these negotiations, General,” he said. His voice was very bland but there was a clear indication that he had no intention of letting Harry anywhere near the spiders. Wolffe looked torn between agreeing with Seefer and defending a command decision.</p><p>“It is important to consider all options,” Master Koon said and his gesture to Harry was an elegant thing. Harry kept his shrug internal as he translated quickly.</p><p>Sir Nick’s look was nothing but open bewilderment when the question was posed to him. “Negotiations with the <em>acromantula</em>?” he asked. “My dear boy, do you also negotiate with your horses? They are <em>beasts</em> and have no place on Hogwarts’ lands. A few good fires should sort them out quite neatly. The headmaster should have driven them out years ago.”</p><p>Harry glanced at Master Koon’s serene expression and chewed on his lip. “He said that the <em>acromantulas </em>are beasts,” he translated uncertainly. “And he wants to know if you’d negotiate with your,” he tried to find an equivalent. “With animals you rode as transport.”</p><p>“If they spoke and reasoned as sentient beings, then certainly,” Master Koon said quietly and Harry felt suddenly ashamed of his instinctive incredulous reaction.</p><p>Sir Nick seemed oblivious to the undercurrents. “Why on earth are you asking?” he said. “They are best steered well-clear of.”</p><p>“We’ve got men,” Harry said. “They’re on the other side of the forest and we want to get them through.”</p><p>“Can they not floo?” Sir Nick asked and Harry squinted at him. “Ah, no,” the ghost said after moment. “That was all closed down, wasn’t it?” He stroked thoughtfully at his chin. “Well, there are a few brooms still around in storage and I think the headmaster’s office has a carpet that might still be of use if you care to fly.”</p><p>“Brooms?” Harry asked, brightening a bit. He’d missed his own – there was nothing really like flying with the wind free around you. Maybe if they were guiding the ship in by air, Vee would be able to land closer in. It was worth a try.</p><hr/><p>There was a twinge in the air, a note of <em>something</em> that demanded his attention for a moment. Lord Voldemort registered it and then discarded it. He did not have time for petty distractions.</p><p>He was back to his original glorious form once more, the Philosopher’s Stone having worked its magic yet again. Truly, alchemy was a wonder that he had been a fool to overlook. Now though, with immortal life and everlasting gold in his hands, things like time became an unnecessary consideration. His life stretched out, a gleaming path of glory ahead of him… save the last nuisance of the Potter boy. Had it not been for the prophecy – well, no matter. He’d see the boy dead in time.</p><p>It was not <em>just </em>the Potter boy that frustrated him, he recognised. The <em>Jedi</em> were a petty annoyance as well, their aurors (or whatever they chose to call them on this foreign world) hunted him still, their white-armoured pets in close formation around them as they raided hotel after hotel. He did not understand how they tracked him even as he used <em>notice-me-nots</em> and <em>obliviation</em> in strength. He’d left enough of their corpses smoking on the ground to discourage anyone with wits and <em>still they chased him</em>. It was immensely unfortunate that these new breed of wizards seemed resistant to his imperius, although he could catch the weak-willed for some few minutes had he the right opportunity. It seemed that they were well-trained in mind magics.</p><p>He’d decided eventually that discretion was the better part of valour. When a Prince Xizor had thought himself in a position to negotiate with Lord Voldemort for the benefit of his criminal organization, the Black Sun – and learnt his mistake quickly enough – he’d been able to make his way off-world with access to a well-stocked bank account and roots into the beginning of a new underworld. This new galaxy was flush with opportunity. He’d left behind a few surprises for the unwary and a few longer term plans in the form of eyes and ears now sat within the Senate.</p><p>Falleen was an interesting planet, lush with rainforest and broad sweeping plains between the immense towering cities. He found himself almost missing his potions master – Severus would have been quite in his element with a whole planetful of new plants to experiment with. Indeed, it was more frustrating than he had expected to be deprived of his faithful servants and magic users seemed thin on the ground past the Merlin-blasted Jedi.</p><p>And now, sat in the depths of a palace with an imperiused Prince Xizor to his left and several bewildered but obedient members of the Black Sun to his back, a holographic projection of Count Dooku swam into vision.</p><p>This Count Dooku was a wizard himself – Lord Voldemort would not lower himself to deal with the magicless. He’d taken a path much like his own, leading a movement against the corrupt bureaucracy, although he permitted lesser beings among his ranks. Pragmatism was not necessarily an ill however. Had he not permitted vampires and werewolf filth among his own ranks? He did dislike the thought of another thinking themselves his equal but… he could be patient. He had learnt to smile and wait while that fool Dumbledore had presided over him and he could be patient still.</p><p>“Darth Voldemort,” Count Dooku greeted and Lord Voldemort met his eyes.</p><p>“<em>Lord</em>,” he corrected sharply and then forced himself to gentle it with a cold smile. “I have heard much of you, Count Dooku.”</p><p>“And I remarkably little of you, Lord Voldemort,” Dooku said. His eyes were sharp over him, no doubt taking in ever last inch and assessing it. Lord Voldemort had taken full advantage of Prince Xizor’s reluctant hospitality, however, and was dressed in the same sartorial elegance as Dooku himself, lightsabre strapped to his waist and the spare well-hidden below rich robes.</p><p>“Just so,” Lord Voldemort said, although he felt himself seethe at the thought of the lost reputation -years he’d spent building that, to be lost at the whims of fate and a worthless boy-child.</p><p>“One wonders where you might have appeared from,” Count Dooku said and Lord Voldemort inclined his head, letting his smile sharpen. Let them wonder.</p><p>“It does seem,” Count Dooku said after the silence had lingered long enough, “That we might have similar interests.”</p><p>“Might we?”</p><p>“Your assault on the Jedi Temple does indicate this, ill-thought out though it may have been.”</p><p>“I retrieved what I sought,” Lord Voldemort drawled. “The rest had little value to me.”</p><p>That seemed to surprise Count Dooku for a second. He recovered quickly however. “And now they hunt you,” he said, spreading his hands wide. “So at the very least, we have a common enemy.”</p><p>Lord Voldemort let himself breathe for a few moments. “So it would seem,” he allowed eventually. “What would you have us do with this?”</p><p>“My apprentice has business a few planets over on the Corellian Run,” Count Dooku said. His smile was a cold, polished thing. “I’m sure that she would be most honoured to make your acquaintance thereafter, however – and to discuss how we might assist one another.”</p><p>An <em>apprentice</em>?! He dared – but no, he cooled himself quickly. An apprentice could show the mettle of a man as surely as the man himself. And if she happened to tread unwisely then an apprentice could be replaced far more easily than an ally could. “I wait in anticipation,” he said with an echoing smile. “Let us see what we have in common then, Count Dooku.”</p><p>The conversation took little enough time after that and the hologram was shut off with an air of finality a few short minutes later. Lord Voldemort sat back.</p><p>“What planets does the Corellian Run cover?” Lord Voldemort asked the air. Prince Xizor was too obstinate to reply, but one of his servants was quick enough to speak.</p><p>“From Ryloth to Coruscant,” he said. “It passes through a number of planets, among them Christophsis, Herdessa, Milagro, Denon, and Corellia, my Lord. We are, of course, Separatist up to Allanteen but I had not heard of any activity yet reaching Rhommamool.”</p><p>Lord Voldemort tapped long fingers against his lips thoughtfully. “Interesting,” he murmured, reverting back to English for a moment for the pleasure of hearing his own language spoken aloud once again. He did not yet know enough of the politics of this place to understand what this Dooku might be about and yet – yes, interesting.</p><hr/><p>“What do you mean, the Black Sun’s not got anything on Voldemort?” Sha Chal demanded. There was a squirming silence on the other end of the comm. “How long have I known you, Fel?” she ground out. “You honestly trying to tell me that there was a terrorist cell operating on Coruscant that you knew <em>nothing</em> about?”</p><p>“He was Death Watch!” Fel protested over the line. “We wouldn’t follow our allies like that!”</p><p>“Like <em>haran</em> you wouldn’t,” Sha Chal said warningly. “Don’t try that on me.” She chose not to challenge the Death Watch part – she figured she’d have time to clear that one up when she had the demagolka’s head stuck on a stick.</p><p>“I can’t,” Fel said and Sha Chal’s eyes narrowed at the note of genuine fear in his voice. Fel might be a rat-bastard but she’d never known him to show real caution before. If he was now…</p><p>“Could you not find anything on him, or are you not allowed to find anything on him?” she asked slowly and Fel’s silence was telling. Sha Chal felt a slow, vicious smile take over her face and she forced it down so as not to appear suspicious. “Fel,” she said instead. “Fel, you <em>owe </em>me.”</p><p>“I can’t,” Fel squeaked out.</p><p>“Where’s Prince Xizor nowadays, Fel?” she asked casually and she could hear the heavy swallow over the comm.</p><p>“I <em>can’t</em>,” he whispered and Sha Chal sat back. Now, was it worth losing a contact to push this or not? He’d break soon enough in clone custody, she was sure but if it was traced back to her… No, she decided. Not yet. She let her eyes rest on the new gold painted on the back of her gloves.</p><p>“You saw what happened to the Death Watch, Fel,” she said gently. “Do you really think it’ll turn out different for the Black Sun?”</p><p>Fel was silent over the line and Sha Chal waited patiently.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0050"><h2>50. Chapter 50</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I hope that everyone who celebrates it has had a great Christmas and New Year's and that you're all staying safe. Fingers crossed 2021 improves! </p><p>The next chapter's an interval one that's relatively short, so I'm aiming to get it up by Wednesday.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“That cannot be safe,” Seefer said in flat denial. Harry continued to hover mid-air, held up by what seemed to be nothing more than a piece of wood. For the life of him, Seefer couldn’t see where the anti-grav device was being stored, let alone the steering engine.</p><p>“Fascinating,” General Koon murmured, his head tilted to one side. “Somehow it’s being used to channel the Force – I don’t believe I’ve ever seen anything quite like it.”</p><p>Boost was over by the other <em>brooms</em> that Harry had managed to unearth at Sir Nick’s direction. He was determinedly repeating the word that Harry had taught them – “Up, <em>up</em>,” – but the broom in question did little more than roll over in protest. Even that had General Koon looking remarkably sharp-eyed for a second, a moment of clear lightning-bolt realisation that he didn’t seem quite ready to share more broadly.</p><p>“We can fly back to the ship using these,” Harry said brightly. “Then maybe we could pilot it back in.”</p><p>General Koon hummed back, hovering his own talons over one of the sticks. His meditative <em>“Up</em>,” had the broom jump for a second before it fell back down.</p><p>“You’ve got to be confident,” Harry said. He was upside down on his broom now, hanging like a Yavin diri-sloth. “They can tell when you don’t mean it.”</p><p>The sticks were <em>sentient </em>now? Seefer didn’t know how to feel about that. To his side, Wolffe barked a sharp <em>up</em> that had the front end of his broom rearing up before it bucked sharply. If they’d been mid-air on that thing… Sergeant Sinker had a notably wary look in his eyes that suggested his thoughts were trending the same way.</p><p>“What do you do if you fall?” Sinker asked, eyes dark on where Harry was now doing slow loops around the Great Hall.</p><p>“Fall?” Harry asked in confusion, and then paused to think it over. “Well, normally someone will catch you. Madame Hooch was always great at levitation charms. Otherwise, I guess we tend to bounce more than break so the damage is rarely ever that bad.”</p><p>“We don’t bounce though,” Sinker pointed out.</p><p>“We don’t bounce from jetpacks either,” Boost said cheerfully. “We still use those though.”</p><p>“There’s a reason you were banned from jetpacks, Boost,” Commander Wolffe snapped. He seemed to be considering his own broom for a second, before reapplying himself with grim determination.</p><p>“…Oh,” Harry said. He’d come to hover next to Seefer and he looked sad for a second. “I was hoping that we could fly together. I thought you’d like Quidditch.”</p><p>Seefer nudged at that little flicker in his head that signified <em>Harry </em>and then grimaced. He held a hand over the broom and to his surprise, it nearly flung itself into his hand at the suggestion of an <em>up</em>. There was silence as the group stared at him, none more surprised than Seefer himself. General Koon was watching with odd intentness.</p><p>“Right,” Seefer said, squaring his shoulders. “What’s the next step?”</p><p>Harry brightened as he nudged his way down and in short moments Seefer was pushing himself up off the ground to hover, his toes just barely brushing the stone floor. It felt almost warm, like a humming within him. He brought the front end up and the broom slowly tilted up with him. It wasn’t that difficult to control, he was forced to admit after a few minutes. He didn’t have Harry’s ease in the air but he could see the appeal.</p><p>Sir Nick was watching them all with a kind of arch huffiness, saying something in quick words to Harry that Seefer wished he understood. He’d studied what he could of Harry’s language in those weeks of hyperspace travel but it turned out actually catching the gist of a conversation was quite different to having it slowly spelled out in front of you. Hopefully the translation droid they’d brought along would be able to do a better job, or it would be a long few months trying to work out what they were looking for.</p><p>General Koon was in the air now, an odd kind of ease about him as he directed his broom one way and then another, puzzling out how it worked. Beneath them Boost had somehow managed to get off the ground only to crash straight back into it, and Sinker looked increasingly reluctant as he muttered out quieter and quieter commands.</p><p>“Harry, would you be able to ask your Sir Nick what the best way to bring a flighted vehicle in would be?” General Koon asked. “And also whether we’d be better to go as a group, or it would be safe for some to remain.”</p><p><em>Splitting up</em>, Seefer thought grumpily. <em>Again</em>. He didn’t like it but – he glanced down at where Wolffe was now upbraiding his broom as if it were a misbehaving cadet – maybe it did make sense.</p><p>Harry floated over to where the ghost was watching, switching languages without a second thought. Seefer watched them thoughtfully, a little unnerved by the fact that this being, capable of speech, thought, and apparently nearly setting a sentient building to murder them all, was actually <em>dead</em>. And, if Seefer understood the detail correctly, had been dead for over a hundred thousand years now. What kind of <em>haran-</em>damned torment was that? The being didn’t seem overly bothered by it, chatting to Harry now, his enthusiasm sending his head bouncing off his neck a few times.</p><p>There seemed to be agreement from the ghost that a few troopers staying behind wouldn’t be problematic – Harry looked to be particularly insistent when he demanded reassurance that they would remain unharmed. As long as they stayed within the Great Hall it seemed that the castle wouldn’t get them lost – and wasn’t it enough that there were massive man-eating arachnids in this place? Was it really necessary that the <em>building</em> could try to kill them too?</p><p>General Koon contemplated the men with a steady gaze. Teejay had been grounded with strict instructions not to strain his arm any further and Boost seemed a poor choice for anything aerial. Seefer deliberately made his own control of the broom quite clear, lazily steering it over to watch a few of his brothers struggle.</p><p>“Harry, Seefer and – Ricochet,” General Koon said after a moment.</p><p>“General-!” Commander Wolffe started to protest and General Koon tilted his head at him.</p><p>“We need someone to secure the base here appropriately, Commander,” he said. “Do you think you can set something defensible up while we bring the other men in?”</p><p>That was an easy way to stop Wolffe from demanding to be allowed along, Seefer thought with wry amusement. Indeed, the Commander was already scanning the hall in sharp thought, eyeing up the furniture in open consideration.</p><p>They were on the move in short order after that, Harry using a few quick words to light up the dark night sky ahead of them. The Forest seemed somehow both more and less ominous from above – a writhing mass of darkness beneath them, but one that couldn’t touch them. Seefer wondered what the damned spiders were doing there.</p><p>Sen’s relief on seeing their return was unabashed and Seefer tuned out of the low conversation General Koon was having with him. Harry seemed reluctant to get off his broom, switching to darting manoeuvres that looked reminiscent of drills. What would it be like to try and fire a blaster from the top of one of these, Seefer wondered. He couldn’t decide whether or not it would be beneficial in a battle – droid targeting might not be overwhelmingly reliable for air targets, but even a glancing blow could kill if you fell.</p><p>“Follow the <em>brooms,</em>” Vee said dubiously. “What’s their top speed, General? I’m not sure we’ll be able to cruise at their speeds.”  </p><p>“The Nimbus 2000 will hit 120 miles per hour,” Harry chipped in brightly. “I think these are an upgraded model, so they should go faster.”</p><p>“It didn’t feel like we were going that fast,” Seefer said slowly. “The air resistance…”</p><p>“There are windbreaker charms on the front,” Harry said. He’d switched into dangling from his broom using only his legs and Seefer bit his tongue rather than shout at him to sit on the thing properly. His kid knew how to use these things, he told himself.</p><p>“Difficult,” Vee said, but he looked more intrigued by the challenge than worried. “And you’ll have a spotlight trailer upfront?”</p><p>Harry waved his lightsabre in answer and General Koon nodded placidly.</p><p>“I believe it worth the attempt,” he said. “I do not feel comfortable having us divided overnight, not with you surrounded by the Forest.”</p><p>“It’s been giving me the creeps,” Vee admitted frankly and Seefer snorted.</p><p>“For good reason,” he said. “I’m sure Teejay will be more than happy to tell you about the damn spiders.” He paused. “And the murderous plants.”</p><p>“Murderous plants?” Sen asked, and Seefer shrugged.</p><p>“It seems like everything wants to kill you here.”</p><p>“The unicorns are nice!” Harry protested, and Seefer conceded to that one. They had been an experience; oddly calming, spreading warmth in him even at the memory.</p><p>“Perhaps we might set off?” General Koon prompted and there was a sheepish silence as several of the troopers snapped off salutes.</p><p>“Yes sir,” Sen said sharply, chivvying the others back onto the ship. Harry glanced over to General Koon and then with a muttered <em>lumos</em>, set the sky ablaze again.</p><p>…</p><p>“Senator Amidala,” the Chancellor said. “I must speak to you of a sensitive matter.”</p><p>Padme looked up at her old mentor, surprised at how tired he looked. The war was breaking them all down slowly, she thought with some sympathy. She might not agree with every action the Chancellor took, but no one could doubt his commitment to the Republic – and no one could doubt the effect it was having on the once effortlessly charismatic man.</p><p>“Chancellor,” she greeted back and he smiled at her briefly. “I am always willing to speak.”</p><p>“Indeed you are, my dear,” Chancellor Palpatine said. “It is one of the many things I have admired in you over the years we’ve known each other.”</p><p>The flattery was unusual – by now they knew each other well enough to dispense with such approaches. They had had some notable disagreements in recent months however; perhaps he was feeling cautious.</p><p>“Do we need to go somewhere more secure?” she asked delicately, already signalling Captain Typho to ensure her office was ready.</p><p>“I fear so,” Chancellor Palpatine said quietly. “I think my office would be best for this matter – I would value your unbiased advice on a… conundrum that has come before me.”</p><p>That sounded worrying, Padme thought, a sick twist in her stomach. Why couldn’t they have some good news for once? She couldn’t focus on the innocuous small-talk they exchanged on the way back to his office, and once the door shut behind them, she took a deep breath in preparation for whatever was about to be said. The Chancellor bustled for a few moments, seemingly trying to occupy his hands as he poured them both a drink, but finally it seemed he could avoid the conversation no longer.</p><p>“I have received information that the clone troopers may have had – something implanted in their heads,” Chancellor Palpatine said. His mouth was tight and downturned. “As you might imagine, this concerns me slightly.”</p><p>Something <em>implanted - </em>?</p><p>“What kind of implant are we talking about?” she asked slowly.</p><p>“I don’t know,” he said. “It seems to be electronic in nature but it degrades when exposed to air.”</p><p>An electronic implant in their army’s heads. Padme tried to think through the implications of this, but her head was spinning. “The Jedi told you this?” she asked after a moment.</p><p>“They appear to be aware of it,” Palpatine said quietly. One finger tapped against the back of his hand restlessly for a second before he stilled it. “It is a matter several of their healers were looking into, my source told me.”</p><p>“Your source?” Padme asked shrewdly. “Not the Jedi themselves?”</p><p>To a neutral observer, Palpatine might look unbothered – he’d always had a remarkable politician’s face. Padme had known him for over a decade at this point, however, and she could tell his discomfort in the set of his shoulders, the edges of stress at the corners of his eyes.</p><p>“It appears that the Jedi do not feel that this is something we should be informed of,” he said slowly, and then corrected himself quickly. “Perhaps they see it as a security risk, to have too many people that know of a potential – complexity in our troops. It is understandable.”</p><p>It was absolutely <em>not</em> understandable to have the Supreme Chancellor unaware of a potentially war-changing risk, Padme thought sharply. But – there had to be some mistake. The Jedi wouldn’t hide something like that. She felt like there was something missing here but she couldn’t understand what beyond the creeping suspicion.</p><p>She hadn’t been oblivious to the changing sentiment about the Jedi. They had never been popular as such – too distant from the everyday, involved only where the Senate chose to send them. Since the war dissatisfaction had been rising, however, with accusations of war-mongering being slung around. She could not say that she entirely disagreed with the rumblings of discontent, although for different reasons. For her, the Jedi were a convenience – an enabler for the worst behaviours of the Senate. What worry was there in war when the majority of planets didn’t have to sacrifice for it? When the generals were a group that had few to no personal connections outside of their order?</p><p>“I see,” she said slowly. “And what are you asking of me?”</p><p>Chancellor Palpatine closed his eyes briefly. “An investigation,” he said. “No more, no less. A small group of trustworthy politicians to investigate the nature of this chip – and also, the origin of the clones.”</p><p>“The Jedi said they were commissioned by an old Master who had a vision,” Padme said. She didn’t bother to try and make that sound more defensible.</p><p>“It is a shocking amount of money for one out-of-favour Master to be able to access,” Chancellor Palpatine said neutrally. He paused. “I do not say this of all the Jedi of course but – there are aspects that have come to concern me slightly.”</p><p>Padme stayed silent and Chancellor Palpatine watched her expression for a long moment.</p><p>“I am not sure that I could be unbiased in such matters,” he admitted freely. “This is why I would like you to select a cross-partisan group of perhaps five others that would be able to investigate these matters.”</p><p>“Without informing the Jedi, I presume,” Padme said and the Chancellor breathed out through his nose slowly.</p><p>“I would prefer we did not,” he said. “As I mentioned, I have some concerns.”</p><p>Which was understandable if the Jedi were not informing him of major security risks to the Grand Army of the Republic, as problematic as Padme found that group. At least if she was involved she could ensure that there was not an active bias against the Jedi in such an investigation.</p><p>With that thought in mind, she nodded sharply to the Chancellor. “I’ll get something established,” she said. “There’ll be something on your desk tomorrow.” She paused. “Can I presume that we’ll have full access to the clone troopers in the meantime?”</p><p>“Certainly to the Guard,” the Chancellor assured her immediately. “For the others – I would not object to perhaps including the 501<sup>st</sup>, providing they are strongly cautioned about the need for secrecy.”</p><p>Ani was his source then. She’d have to talk to him to understand what he’d already found out.</p><p>“Understood,” she said, and drained her glass. She stood up at the same time as the Chancellor.</p><p>“I apologise,” he said as he guided her out. “I did not intend to add more work to your plate but I feel that this is critical.”</p><p>“I serve the Republic,” Padme said and the Chancellor smiled at her as she left.</p><p>…</p><p>It was an odd feeling to have the sun shining down brightly at them from a ceiling, but it was an oddly cheerful wake-up. Seefer crawled out of his squishy sleeping bag, rolling his shoulders as he did so. Over to his right General Koon was already at work with the translation droid and Harry was watching blearily from where he was still tucked up in his own sleeping bag.</p><p>Ricks was on cooking duty and had managed to turn their nutri-packs into something vaguely edible through some black magic. Seefer ambled over to snatch his share before anyone else tried to wheedle seconds. He wouldn’t put it past Teejay to pull the ‘injured’ card.</p><p>“We’re going looking for the SITH library today,” Harry said, having pulled himself awake and over to the food. He grimaced at the bowl faintly. “I think there’s a real kitchen here somewhere. With the greenhouses, we might be able to make something from scratch.” He didn’t sound overwhelmingly hopeful about it.</p><p>Seefer hummed through a mouthful of warm slurry, lightly spiced with something that was almost certainly contraband and very likely sourced by Cricket.</p><p>“We should start mapping the place too,” he said thoughtfully, and Harry made a dubious sound.</p><p>“We’d be better grabbing the standard maps from the main library,” he said. “They’re self-updating.” He paused. “Well, mostly. Sometimes they get things wrong but they generally have the gist of the place.”</p><p>It was a smallish group of them that set out to this so-called library – split up again into half. Seefer wondered why General Koon hadn’t asked for a battalion top-up to take them to a full eight hundred… but while they were short of men, they were unlikely to be sent into battle so he wasn’t going to object any time soon.</p><p>The moving stairways were more unnerving than he’d expected but breath-taking at the same time. Seeing them swing out into mid-air apparently completely unsupported by connections or basic physics was oddly magical. Having to jump over trick stairs was distinctly less magical, although seeing Teeks sitting down in resignation as a stair attempted to swallow his foot was at least entertaining.</p><p>Harry kept a constant stream of chatter up as they wandered through the hallways – “that’s the back-up charm classroom we use when someone’s blown up the primary and Hogwarts hasn’t had time to repair it” – “Peeves once caught Professor Sinistra in an expanding bubblegum trap there and she cursed him so hard we didn’t see him for a <em>full week</em>” – “Professor Snape made four people cry there when he found them trying to have a duel”. Sometimes it was accompanied with flashes of memory that Seefer leant into. Compared to Kamino it seemed an overwhelming richness of experience and Seefer couldn’t quite process what it would be like to have a childhood full of that kind of activity.</p><p>The door Sir Nick ended up leading them to was unassuming, tucked away on a second floor corridor somewhere near the centre of the castle by Seefer’s reckoning. He wasn’t certain because he thought they’d been walking longer than the outside size of the building would have permitted – but there was enough oddity here that he was willing to accept it.</p><p>He didn’t quite know what he’d been expecting from a Sith library, but it certainly wasn’t a cosy-looking room with beanbags flung on the floor and a few dark wood tables scattered around. There were flimsi-based books stacked up on shelves and maps tacked up on one of the walls, next to a brightly coloured poster that showed two humans clasping hands. An empty hole in the wall had logs piled up in a metal enclosure – some kind of primitive heating mechanism, maybe? On one of the tables, there was a stack of folded papers with a bold short word written on it and Harry seemed surprised by it.</p><p>“It’s got my name written on it,” he said and General Koon stopped him before he could reach out for it.</p><p>“There is no harm in being a little cautious, Padawan,” he said. “Is there danger in the Force?”</p><p>Harry squinted up at General Koon and then down at the stack of papers a little dubiously. Seefer watched as he let his eyes flutter shut for a second, tilting his head to one side – and then he shook it, sharply. “Not that I can tell,” he said and General Koon inclined his head.</p><p>“Commander Wolffe – can you see any traps?” he asked and Wolffe scowled at the room indiscriminately.</p><p>It took a few more moments before General Koon was satisfied and Harry was able to reach out to the stack. He tore open the containing paper and his eyes flickered rapidly over words in a way that contrasted strongly to the halting stops and starts that normally accompanied his attempts at reading.</p><p>“Oh,” Harry more exhaled than said after a few minutes. He rubbed at the bridge of his nose. It had reddened slightly and that little bundle in his head that was Harry felt – sad was the wrong word for it; a kind of regretful mourning, a wistful <em>what-might-have-been </em>bundled up in grief and confusion and a guilty kind of gratefulness. He swallowed hard a few times and Seefer moved up beside him, nudging at his shoulder. He was rewarded with a brief flash of a smile before Harry inhaled heavily and then exhaled again, as if making sure he could speak steadily.</p><p>“It’s from Hermione,” he said. “And there’s letters from some of the others, and notes on Vo- on <em>him</em>, and what they did to kill his other parts.”</p><p>General Koon looked for a moment as though he were going to ask Harry to translate and Seefer wanted to bristle on his kid’s behalf. Giving him some time to process wasn’t too much to ask – but  in the middle of a war, where his brothers were dying by the thousands on a daily basis maybe it <em>was </em>too much to ask.</p><p>“Perhaps in a short while you might be able to discuss it with us?” the General prompted gently instead and Harry nodded absent-mindedly. He didn’t seem to be paying attention as he went to collapse on one of the beanbags, eyes fixated on the piece of flimsi he held.</p><p>General Koon watched him for a few long moments before gesturing to the others. “Perhaps we should make a start on exploring the room,” he said. “TR-SL8, can you see what you can decipher of the material?”</p><p>“Affirmative,” the droid burbled at them, its headlights brightening with anticipation at the sight of the books.</p><p>Seefer sighed through his nose, taking another look around the library. This was definitely not what he’d expected from the Sith.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0051"><h2>51. Chapter 51</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Welcome to relentless exposition. :) Please note that this is also potentially quite one-sided... as is the nature of letters.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Harry,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’m writing this in the hopes that some time in your distant future, you’ll be able to return to Hogwarts. We’ve left you what we can and I hope that it will prove useful. You’ll find the full document inventory listed at the end with a summary of what’s contained where, but I’m sure there’s more that you’ll be able to make use of – we’ve sealed up Hogwarts as best we can.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’m hoping that we’ll see you one last time before we finish up here. I don’t know how this vision business works, though. I’ve never been impressed by Divination but it seems I may have dismissed it too quickly (although I do believe that the whole tea-leaf reading business is absolute nonsense). I do wish that it’s something I had the time to investigate further but we all have to make do with what we have. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>When I sit here writing, I’m forced to realise how little time we actually spent together. Sixteen years ago I met you and we knew each other for not quite a year. And yet even so, the impact you’ve made on my life has carried on all the way through.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sixteen years ago, I was crying in a toilet on Hallowe’en when a troll stormed in. Two boys came chasing after it, determined to do the right thing and not let me get hurt. We didn’t like each other then – or at least, I know Ron didn’t like me and I was too absorbed in grades and cleverness and proving myself right to have friends. Even so, you both came running in against something that could have killed you in a heartbeat, armed with nothing more than a wingardium leviosa.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>That moment of altruism might have saved my life. It definitely changed it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>There are several things that I took away from that but I guess the key one was that sometimes you have to put your life on the line for others, because it’s the right thing to do. I have to admit, the prospect of dying does scare me though Harry. Everything that I am is just going to cease to be and – that’ll be it. Emptiness. This is the only place I’ve written that down and I’m sorry for it. I shouldn’t unload my fears on you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I don’t know what you’ve pieced together from the moments we shared together. You’ve been there at many of the critical moments for me but I suppose there’s a lot of context that’s missing. I won’t go into too much detail, but suffice to say that Voldemort returned around a year after you vanished – he murdered Ginny Weasley in a ritual and used her life force to build himself a body from what we can tell. He was able to do this because he split his soul into something called a horcrux (via a truly horrendous ritual), that enabled him to resurrect himself after death. He made himself a total of seven soul pieces. To my knowledge, we’ve – and Grindelwald, I suppose – destroyed six of them, which leaves only his final shard to be destroyed. You’ll find details of the potential methods of destruction in Appendix 1A.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He’s rather accomplished at terrorism and guerrilla warfare (you’ll have to watch out for this: a breakdown of his tactics is available in Appendix 1B; in particular, note his habit of targeting civilians in order to lure you into disadvantageous battles) and was able to infiltrate the Ministry of Magic quite neatly. The other wizarding countries chose not to intervene with ‘internal matters’ and in short order, Hogwarts – and Dumbledore – were the last bastions in Britain. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Unsurprisingly, the non-magical humans were rather upset at having been used as walking targets for the past five years or so. Voldemort was somewhat indiscriminate in his massacres and eventually the Order and the Aurors stopped responding to them because they couldn’t afford to lose any more people. They used this time to start investigating this secret world that they hadn’t known about before; I suspect a few muggleborns were providing information to the non-magical governments.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Voldemort eventually managed to kill Dumbledore in one of the greatest blows in the war and – people panicked, I suppose. They went hunting for absolutely anyone who might be able to face off with him. The rest of the world was beginning to wake up to the threat at this point, assisted by the fact that Voldemort had decided now was a good time to open a few more fronts on the war. His ego’s something that you’ll be able to take advantage of (Appendix 1C).</em>
</p><p>
  <em>To cut a long story short, Grindelwald was brought out of jail and somehow managed to secure his position as a key leader in a terrifying short amount of time. Voldemort was brought down eventually, over a war that stretched out another eight years or so and absolutely devastated both the wizarding world and the non-magical population. Loathe as I am to admit it, Grindelwald is likely the most talented dueler I’ve ever seen. He’s immensely charismatic as well and it seems like people were just waiting for a figurehead. It’s much easier to put all your hopes on someone else rather than take responsibility for your own actions. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>You’ll have to forgive the bitterness. He’s taken the people I had most faith in and twisted them into something I just can’t recognise any more. I’d hoped that Ron would join us – he’s no doubt one of the finest strategists we saw in the war – but he chose to be selfish and focus on his family, rather than what was right. (Perhaps that’s unkind of me but Harry, I am so tired of trying to be fair to everyone).</em>
</p><p><em>There were celebrations following Voldemort’s downfall and people were less discreet than they should have been with their concealment charms. The non-magicals had been working on their own ways of tracking magicals at this point and on seeing numerous wild parties – with bright lights and riotous noise, very similar to the Revels that Voldemort used to run – they chose to strike. Over a thousand magicals were killed in one night. When you put it into comparison against how many non-magicals we massacred it looks rather petty but people are generally not in favour of being rational about these things. </em>Our<em> deaths are always worth far more than </em>theirs<em>.</em></p><p>
  <em>No one was really willing to talk at this point. The non-magicals thought we were all Voldemort or Voldemort supporters; the magicals were furious that they’d thought they’d won, seen an end to war, and then had their friends and relatives slaughtered by people they thought of as savages. It turns out in an outright war between magicals and non-magicals, non-magicals don't have that much hope. What can you do when someone can teleport into your most secure building and imperius your leaders?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>People tell us to think rationally, to compromise. We tried that. We campaigned peacefully, put up posters, signed petitions. It didn’t do anything. At best we had people calling us traitors and cowards – at worst, there were wands drawn. Flitwick tells us that we should be ‘like water’, the we should ‘wear away at them’ but that would take years, if we were lucky. Why is the comfort of wizards worth more than the lives of non-magicals? Serenity isn’t worth anything Harry – it’s all just words. The only thing that counts is action. Use your passion to drive you, to find your strength and your resolution. That’s what leads to victory – and victory is the only way we can break the hold the Grindelwald has. Flitwick says that we think too much in absolutes but some things need to be absolutes. Slavery should never be tolerated. The rights of the individual should not be subsumed for the comfort of others.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Grindelwald is a big proponent of the ‘greater good’. He says that non-magicals should be ruled over for their own  good – however that happens. As if magic makes you more capable of ruling, or making ethical decisions! He’s got some ridiculous notion of the ‘philosopher-king’ and the natural place of magicals. The greater good means nothing if you deprive other people of freedom to get it. If a society requires a portion of the population to be deprived of their rights to enable the others to live comfortably then that society does not deserve to exist. I can't bring myself to care about the voices that are calling for stability - they're willing to sacrifice others for it and that is unacceptable. Better chaos than stability built on slaves.</em>
</p><p><em>I’m on my soapbox, but this is something that I’m passionate about. We formed the Society for the Integration of the Totality of Humanity (and I </em>do<em> regret that I wasn’t more inclusive in the name, but by the time we got to that SITH had quite stuck) to fight against this. Like I said, we started with peaceful campaigning – now we do whatever we have to do to ensure that Grindelwald’s vision doesn’t come true.</em></p><p><em>He managed to recruit a huge following world-wide; allies in every country, waging war against the non-magicals. Off the back of that, they’ve managed to design some sort of ritual – I don’t know the details, but the purpose is to strip non-magicals of their will. It’s something similar to how the house-elves (in itself a horrendous abuse of rights) except </em>more<em>. We can’t see a way of undoing it once it’s been cast. No one’s been able to undo what was done to the house-elves and there have been people willing to try for over a thousand years. They’ve already put several of the anchors in place so we can’t just stop them now either.</em></p><p>
  <em>The only solution we can find is to break magic – disrupt it. We’re not sure if it’ll be temporary or permanent. My suspicion is permanent, given what you’ve said about the Force, but it’s hard to be certain about things. There’s a lot of detail around it (see Appendix 2A) but essentially the point is: if we can make a big enough ‘storm’ via sacrifice, it will shake all the connections loose and have to re-establish points of contact. This temporarily renders all magicals null – and then, if we’ve calculated the resettling correctly, it should start to form new connections with everything living rather than just gravitating to the ‘natural’ magic users. It’ll probably take a couple of decades for this resettling but that seems a small price to pay. It’s also possible that sufficient sacrifice might give magic a will of its own – if there’s anyway we can influence that then we could affect generations.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sufficient sacrifice takes lives though. The SITH are willing to step up and Harry, I’m so damned proud to have fought beside these people because not one of us shied away from it. I’m terrified and I’m sure they are too, but this is something worth doing. All of their names are in Appendix 2B. I’d appreciate it if you could remember them because they deserve to be remembered.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>This letter’s got ridiculously long for something I intended to keep short. I really meant this to focus on you and what you need to do. That’s all in the appendices though and the inventory of books supplied here should also help.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Whatever war you’re fighting, I hope you keep your resolution. Be steadfast in the things that matter and flex where they don’t. Don’t let yourself accept injustices because it’s easy because it’s very difficult to undo them once you’ve said yes to them before.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I hope that you get to live a long and happy life.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Your friend,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hermione </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0052"><h2>52. Chapter 52</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Asajj Ventress cleaned the face paint off her face with fastidious movements, stripping the headdress off with relief. It had felt so confining, she thought with a grimace. Needs must though, and the surprise of the Jedi healer had been worth all the discomfort. She let herself have a moment of smug vindication, replaying the <em>snap-hiss</em> of her lightsabre and the moment of stark realisation on the healer’s face.</p><p>There was little enough time to dwell, however, and she was soon setting her hyperdrive out of the system. Denon was an unpleasant little industrial planet and she was glad to be free of it and its semi-permanent smog and little scuttling inhabitants. What need did any species have for more than ten arms? <em>Disgusting</em>. The way their arms and legs had rubbed together to create a constant chittering sound…</p><p>The starscape blurred outside and she settled in to read the dossier that Dooku had sent her on this Voldemort. She confessed to a little apprehension about the matter; the Sith did not seem to play well with others from what she’d heard, and she had no intention of ending up as the next Death Watch – or the next Xizor, for the matter. The Black Sun leader had gone remarkably silent since meeting Lord Voldemort.</p><p>She wondered, briefly, as to Count Dooku’s real thoughts on the matter. She’d been under the impression that the Banite Sith only accepted two Sith at any one time, so this Voldemort truly had set the akk-hound among the desh-voles. Perhaps, she thought, this was Count Dooku’s moment to move however. The apprentice had to succeed the master at some point after all. She couldn’t say that she’d regret being set free of Dooku’s mysterious master. Some of the instructions that came through truly did have her wondering what the game being played was – because a true Separatist movement did not seem entirely favoured.</p><p>No matter though. She knew when to bide her time and it served her purpose well-enough for now to be the faithful servant. Just, she thought, as Dooku knew how to bide <em>his</em> time.</p>
<hr/><p>Plo Koon found himself more uncertain than he cared to admit. TR-SL8 had its two of its optical sensors craned over a flimsi-book with Harry, collating information as Harry slowly translated. Ricks was making a slow attempt at deciphering the titles of one of the shelves of books, hauling Seefer over whenever he could manage it, and Wolffe was studying a number of maps with a sharp-eyed inquisitiveness.</p><p>The letter that Harry had managed to read out through a thick voice had been enlightening – albeit troubling. There was a whole stack of them for Harry to read through, from <em>Dean </em>and <em>Luna</em>, who Plo Koon could remember as a dreamy-eyed blonde, and a <em>Justin </em>and <em>Colin </em>and other names that Harry confessed he didn’t know but looked determined to learn. There had been moments in the messages – when they talked of passion and strength and victory; of absolutes and no compromise – that Plo Koon heard the echoing of the Sith creed. Far more, however, had been the steely determination to do what was right; to stand up for those who would be oppressed.</p><p>He hadn’t failed to catch the carefully neutral looks that had crossed several of the 304<sup>th</sup>’s faces as the letter was read aloud. It was tragically pertinent to their own situation and Plo couldn’t say that he was overly comfortable with the steps that he – and the Jedi – had taken. It was difficult to understand what else they could have done, however. The Jedi served the Republic. The Ruusan Reformation, following the New Sith Wars, had put them under the supervision of the Supreme Chancellor and the Judicial Department. It was how the Jedi retained the freedom to act and to bring peace across the galaxy. Without that legitimacy they became no more than vigilantes, imposing their own ethics on others without their consent. And yet by remaining apolitical and silent in these discussions, was it not seen as implicit endorsement of the Senate’s activities? To tolerate evil in the name of good… he let his eyes trail over his men and let his talons dig into his palms for a brief moment.</p><p>He released the emotion to the Force and breathed for a second. It would have been easier had they been the Sith of tradition, he thought with a little wryness. To see how far good intentions had been twisted, how the Sith had turned from idealism to corruption… well, it made him wonder if that would be the fate of the Jedi in time. He thought that they were well-regulated and he had faith in the ethics of his sibling Jedi – but then he would have said that he’d had faith in Pong Krell too, and he’d seen the way the troopers had flinched at the mention of his name.</p><p>He was not quite fool enough to judge an entire war from one small group’s writings, however convincing they might be. Nor, he supposed, did it entirely matter if some many thousand years ago the Sith had been formed with different intentions. They were here to gather information on this Voldemort, not to re-open ancient history although Madame Nu- he paused to restructure the thought, remembering her death with a pang – although the archivists would no doubt be desperate for every scrap that they could gain for post-war contemplation. There was enough here to keep scholars occupied for decades.</p><p>TR-SL8 was attempting to read something back to Harry now and Plo Koon felt a jolt of amusement come from his Padawan – it seemed that the translation was still in early stages then. He contemplated Harry for a moment, letting his senses slip out through the bond. He hadn’t spent enough time investigating the net of connections his Padawan had formed in the assault. There was a lot that he simply hadn’t had time for over the past year and a half of war. They were Force bonds, that was certain and yet more responsive than those normally formed with Force nulls. The way that the brooms had reacted to the clones, however, suggested that perhaps they were not as Force null as they’d initially imagined. He was uncertain whether that was to do with whatever Harry had done, or whether it was simply another aspect that they had overlooked in their men.</p><p>So much to investigate and so many questions. And yet the longer they delayed the more of these men – these wonderful, bold, loyal men – died. Haste brought mistakes, delay brought death. It sometimes felt like they were walking blind into the immense jaws of some waiting creature and yet he could not see a way through this. It felt like he had an ever-growing list tallying up in the back of his mind; the ethics of the clone troopers, the origins of the clone troopers, the ethics of a war to prevent free secession, the new Sith, some form of chips in the men’s heads, Fallen Jedi, his Padawan, the growing unpopularity of the Jedi-</p><p>He let out a sigh, regulated by his rebreather. There was no use in dwelling. The book below his talon was lettered in gold, “<em>On Occlumency</em>”, and he flipped through it briefly to trail his eyes over the unfamiliar letters. He could decipher it – slowly, but it was possible – but although he could sound the words out in his mind the meanings still proved difficult to him. It had been many years since he’d felt the need to learn a new language from scratch.</p><p>He’d hoped to simply pack up the data and ship it back to Coruscant but the ghost guardian, Sir Nick, had laughed as though the very idea was absurd. Apparently there were safeguards to prevent the removal of Hogwarts’ belongings and Plo wasn’t certain whether it would be worth trying to risk them just yet. Sir Nick said that the other guardians were starting to stir now, so perhaps they would be able to gather more information. In the meantime, they would catalogue what they could. If they had to use handheld scanners to move the information they would although no doubt the troopers would not be enthused at their sudden entry into the ranks of archivists.</p><p>To the side, Wolffe cursed vehemently as Sir Nick passed through him to investigate what he was looking at. “What the –” his Commander spluttered and the ghost said something dismissively in his own language. Harry glanced up and responded quickly and there was a fast exchange of words. Wolffe grumbled and shook himself, deliberately moving two steps to the right.</p><p>What did he think of everything? Plo found himself wondering. He’d found his Commander a source of pragmatic wisdom, sharp-tongued though he was. He’d have to discuss matters with him later tonight – it was always helpful to have another head to think things through with. Perhaps Sen, too, might have some thoughts. The Lieutenant tended to keep them much to himself, those invisible lines still drawn between the remnants of the 304<sup>th</sup> and all others, but Plo felt that they had softened quite considerably to him.</p><p>Ricks seemed to have cornered Harry now, scrawling down his inventory of books. Harry looked a little wild-eyed.</p><p>“Why did Hermione have to leave so much behind?” he moaned and Plo resisted the temptation to smile beneath his mask. The room was hardly that big – it would take barely a single corner of the archive to store the material and that was perhaps a sobering thought, that this was what remained of an entire Force-using race.</p><p>“I thought Sir Nick said this was just the Sith library?” Ricks asked absent-mindedly and Harry made a noise of agreement.</p><p>“He did,” he said despondently. “The main library is much bigger. You’ve got to be careful there though. One of the books from the Restricted Section tried to eat me.”</p><p><em>Wonderful</em>, Plo thought with a faintly humoured despair. Was there anything here that did not try to kill you?</p>
<hr/><p>Sha Chal darkened her visor heavily as she stepped out into the blinding Falleen sunlight. It was a planet well-suited to the reptilian species that inhabited it and she was grateful for her built-in temperature adjusters as she made her way to register with the spaceport officials. She was also, though she wouldn’t admit it, very grateful for the scent filters. She didn’t fancy trying to keep her head straight around the pheromones the Falleen released as part of their regular communications. There was a reason most supermodels had some Falleen background in their genetic make-up and they tended to take relentless advantage of their natural benefits.</p><p>The registration was a smooth process, assisted neatly by both her name as a member of the Death Watch and the excess of credits that she’d come into from emptying all of the accounts she could get into. She wondered half-heartedly how the Jetii would make his way in. He was hardly likely to be welcomed on a Separatist world, after all – and the Falleen were very thorough in making sure there was no unauthorised access to their world.</p><p>She briefly considered trying to press for information at the port before discarding the thought. They would no doubt take her money, give her some vague data, and then promptly turn around and report it directly to their Black Sun contact. Not worth it. No, better to find herself a base and then do some good old-fashioned skulking in the places Fel had suggested.</p><p>A tall Dathomirian female entered as she left and Sha Chal let her eyes drift over the white hair with brief disinterest. Start off with the some of the Black Sun haunts, she decided. If the dema’golka had infiltrated the Black Sun in the same way he’d taken the Death Watch, there’d no doubt be a number of confused low-level thugs. Start a few rumours, get in with the right people. Small steps, nice and slow – she’d see her gold paint earned in time, but there was no need to rush it just yet.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0053"><h2>53. Chapter 53</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>It's been a busy time for me! I'd make promises about the future but they'd all be filthy lies so I'll stick with this will be updated at some point.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“What do you mean, Vokara’s not here?” Anakin demanded. “She’s the head healer, she doesn’t just leave the Temple.”</p><p>The Trandoshan bared their fangs, clearly quite done with the conversation now. “<em>Master </em>Che was asked to inspect the Medical Station, to ensure their readiness for action, but I hardly think it is your business where a master chooses to spend their time.” Their eyes were narrowed to slits and Anakin barely managed to bite back a sharp comment of his own.</p><p>“Fine,” he said, his voice surly. He struggled for a moment, trying to remember the name of the winged healer. “Then Mirr-tan – Mirr-tan Esh something, with the wings-“</p><p>“Master Eshki,” the Trandoshan said, with utter frost in their voice. “She died some two weeks ago. Show her the respect of remembering her name.”</p><p>Anakin went very still. “Died?” he asked, aiming for casual. He didn’t quite make it.</p><p>“A mission,” he was informed curtly.</p><p>“What mission?”</p><p>“Do you understand the meaning of <em>classified, </em>Knight Skywalker?” Had they been a Bothan, their hackles would have been raised. Anakin opened his mouth but wasn’t given the opportunity to speak further. “We are grieving our sibling and you come here,” they gestured expressively, “Entirely inappropriate! If you require information on missions, you go to the Council!”</p><p>“I was just-” Anakin protested and the healer made a sound of annoyance.</p><p>“Are you injured?”</p><p>“I-”</p><p>“Then you take up time that could be best spent with those that are!”</p><p>“I just –” Anakin tried.</p><p>“Do you know how many patients we have? So many prosthetics to fit!”</p><p>“What Medical Station is Vokara at?” Anakin blurted out and the Trandoshan <em>hissed</em> noisily.</p><p>“Ask the Council – they will determine whether that is information you are permitted. Now if you don’t mind, some of us have <em>work</em> to do.”</p><p>“It’s important,” Anakin tried. “About the clones-”</p><p>The healer had already stalked away though, and Anakin took slow, deep breaths to try and calm the flicker of anger. So. Mirr-tan Eshki was dead and Vokara was off-planet. He didn’t want to talk conspiracy but- the Chancellor’s face flickered up in his mind. “<em>I cannot imagine why the Jedi would not have made me aware of this</em>,<em>” </em>he’d said. And now Mirr-tan was dead on a classified mission, when the only ones who could classify Jedi movements was the Council, and Vokara was out of reach. He swallowed. There had to be some way of reaching Vokara. And Mirr-tan – he was sure he could find information on her death somehow. He just had to figure out <em>how</em>.</p><hr/><p>There were raindrops pelting heavily against the ceiling above them and Plo Koon  watched them in meditative calm, sliding a new cartridge into his rebreather. He had a good year’s supply tucked away on the ship but part of him regretted that he would not be able to remove the mask for a long while. It did wear on him after a while.</p><p>That was a petty concern, however, and one certainly not worth considering in the grand scheme of things. Wolffe was trying a few different approaches to get the radio signal up and running and Plo Koon was trying to structure how he might report the whole of this to the Council. He was not hesitant to admit that he was troubled and from the bundle of thoughts tucked away in the back of his head, his Padawan was in much the same situation. This trip had been intended to bring them answer and yet- and yet. He sighed quietly to himself.</p><p>Harry shifted to come sit beside him, Seefer trailing to his side. In any other circumstances such an attachment would be something to seek to sever, Plo Koon thought. In these circumstances, though, it brought much needed stability to the both of them. It was certainly something that would need to be addressed prior to knighthood, but Harry was a good decade away from that necessity.</p><p>“I had a question,” Harry said abruptly. Plo Koon nodded encouragingly, hoping that his expression did not convey any of his inner turmoil. Harry swallowed hard, before jutting his jaw, the lightning bolt scar standing out starkly against pale skin.</p><p>“I just,” he said, in his accented Basic. “Why are we fighting the Separatists?”</p><p>Plo Koon blinked the outer layer of his eyelids underneath his googles. That had not been the question he’d expected and yet in itself it was a complex one. He thought carefully before he answered, but Harry seemed to take that as an invitation to keep talking.</p><p>“I mean – leaving the Republic isn’t bad, is it? If it’s a democratic system, you get to opt out of it, don’t you?” He sounded uncertain.</p><p>“Opting out of the Republic is possible, yes,” Plo Koon said slowly. “And the Neutral Systems Alliance have chosen to do so, and that is entirely permissible.”</p><p>Harry frowned as he processed this. “So the Neutral Systems have left?” he asked uncertainly. “What’s different between them and the Separatists?”</p><p>“The Separatists chose to leave violently,” Plo Koon said after a moment. “They blockaded a number of Republic systems, have introduced laws that are entirely against Republic ethics, and have behaved in a way to destabilise the regional balance.”</p><p>The troopers were drifting closer to listen to this now.</p><p>“Introduced laws?” Harry questioned after a second. “If they’re independent, don’t they get to set their own laws?”</p><p>“For the most part, yes,” Plo Koon said. “However, when their laws infringe on other’s rights they become problematic. The Zygerrians have reintroduced slavery, for example – and where might they source their slaves from?”</p><p>Harry looked at him steadily and then let his eyes drift towards the clone troopers. He seemed to be chewing over his words before he finally blurted them out.</p><p>“What makes someone a slave?”</p><p>And that was a question that Plo Koon had not truly wanted to consider. He breathed carefully, puzzling over the words in his own mind. It seemed that the 304<sup>th</sup> were not content to wait however.</p><p>“I believe what the Commander really meant to say,” Sen said, lightly, deliberately. “Is what makes us <em>not</em> slaves?”</p><p>Wolffe bristled instantaneously, outrage in every inch of his being. Plo Koon raised a taloned hand before he could start shouting however. It felt like the blood was cold in his veins, pounding at his ears. Was it not a fair question, though?</p><p>“If you truly wish to leave, I would find a way to make it happen,” he said firmly. And he <em>would</em>, whatever he needed to do to see it through. Perhaps he could fake their deaths – add a few to the reports and let them slip away to Wild Space. There had to be a way.</p><p>“I believe you would, sir,” Sen said and there was a genuineness to his voice that had Plo relieved. “But one person doesn’t change a system. And you being able to do something for <em>us</em> doesn’t change things for the millions of our brothers being used out there.”</p><p>“It’s an honour to serve,” Wolffe snarled, seemingly unable to stop himself now. Sen looked at him.</p><p>“Is it?” he asked. “For people who don’t even recognise that we’re sentient?”</p><p>“The Jedi,” Commander Wolffe said, and Sen snorted.</p><p>“The Jedi are in the same kriffing position as we are, <em>sir</em>. They’re not allowed to leave either. And believe me, they’re exceptionally unpopular for it right now.”</p><p>Now <em>that</em> was something Plo could put a stop to. “The Jedi are not obliged to serve,” he said. “The Ruusan Reformation may require us to support the Senate, but we voted to enable the Senate position.” He was startled at the rough snorts around him.</p><p>“What would have happened if you’d voted against it, General?” Ricks asked, dark eyes sharp and intelligent. “When your Temple is in the middle of Coruscant?”</p><p>“The Senate wouldn’t-” Plo Koon said, and then stopped. He swallowed. “Perhaps we would have been required to relocate,” he acknowledged after a moment. “There are other options for our Temple however. We reside in Coruscant for convenience in our missions, not out of necessity.”</p><p>“And your funding?” Sen asked. “Your food, everything that keeps you running?”</p><p>And Plo couldn’t say that those <em>weren’t</em> considerations, but even so-</p><p>“We believe that it is best for stability that the Republic continues as it is,” he said firmly. “Progress may be slow but at least it is possible through cooperation. The Separatists’ willingness to resort to violence is something that we must overcome and if the Jedi are the best option to prevent this from disrupting the Republic then we will do our duty.”</p><p>“Whatever ills it requires…?” Sen said softly and Plo Koon breathed.</p><p>“I – do not know,” he confessed finally. “No, there must be lines.” But what were the lines? It seemed they slipped further and further away every moment he took his eyes off them. He twitched his talons and then hoped that none had noticed it.</p><p>“If you want to go,” he reiterated, suddenly desperate that they know this for truth. “I will see you go. Whatever I have to do, I promise you this.”</p><p>“The point isn’t our individual freedom, sir,” Sen said. There were a couple of dissenting looks from some of the 304<sup>th</sup>, but no one said anything to contradict it. “The point is the whole system. The point is that someone was able to create us and then deny us rights as sentient beings, and a whole ten thousand systems in the Republic just went along with it because it was <em>easy.</em>”</p><p>“And a whole ten thousand systems decided to vote against our rights while we’re dying for them,” Ricks said. His voice was hard and his fists were clenched. “We got the results for the Clone Rights Bill. Overwhelming failure.”</p><p>“I just,” Sen said. “What does make the Republic better than the Separatists?”</p><p>“That’s treason,” Commander Wolffe said, but he sounded more uncertain than fervent now.</p><p>Plo Koon inhaled and exhaled and thought through his responses. “What would you have us do instead?” he asked steadily. If he could see another option then he would have considered it – but it seemed like all options were closing off around them, leaving only a dark tunnel ahead.</p><p>“I don’t know,” Sen said. “I just know that it shouldn’t be this. <em>Better chaos than stability built on slaves</em>, wasn’t that what the Sith said? Seems like she maybe had a point.”</p><p>And yet what was the freedom of some few million men – some few million clones – when there were billions and trillions of beings that might suffer under Separatist rule? The numbers had favoured the Sith of Harry’s time – millions of beings to suffer so that a small minority might live in freedom. In the here and now, it was the opposite. And even still – <em>what are you steadfast in, </em>he wondered. He’d thought his ethics were fixed but the longer this war went on the more they seemed to slip.</p><p>“And I cannot see a way through this,” he admitted quietly. “And neither can you, it seems. So what would you have us do?”</p><hr/><p>“Lord Voldemort,” Asajj acknowledged, bowing her head faintly. The human regarded her with narrowed eyes and she managed not to bristle. Who was he to judge her? He might be dressed well and with sycophants around him but she knew her own value and in a one-on-one fight she did not consider herself at a disadvantage.</p><p>“Lady Ventress,” the human drawled. He dismissed his trailers with an elegant flick of his wrist that was reminiscent of Dooku. “Your master said that you would bring information.”</p><p>The way he said master… grated. It was as if he referred to a slave master, rather than a training master and Asajj Ventress was no slave. Let the human’s ego talk for himself however. She saw no reason to correct misinformation that might serve her in a fight.</p><p>He was a slender enough man, but there was strength about him. One lightsabre was borne in full view but she thought she could see another under the billow of his expensive robes. More to the point, he moved as if there were nothing in the world that might harm him. Either that was outrageous idiocy or he was as powerful as he thought himself. Asajj could not yet pinpoint which of the two it was.</p><p>“Information,” she acknowledged, “And perhaps the starts of a negotiation. We are keen to make your acquaintance, Lord Voldemort.”</p><p>The human nodded as if this were no more than he expected.</p><p>“You have an interest in the Jedi,” he said and Asajj prepared herself to nod before he continued, “And another, I believe. Someone in the Senate, perhaps?”</p><p>She stilled.</p><p> “We have many interests,” she said cautiously. “Count Dooku is always interested in progressing the values of the Separatists.”</p><p>Lord Voldemort hummed, an annoyingly knowing smile trailing about his lips. Asajj longed to slap it off for a second, before burying the instinct. She would not cause damage to a potential alliance, not when it could assist in bringing down the Jedi.</p><p>“Shall we be honest then?” he asked, tone very mild. “It does pain one to talk of interests without outlining objectives.”</p><p>“We would not be opposed,” Asajj said slowly. It would certainly be to their benefit to understand what the other Sith might want. “We are keen to… cut ties with some parties within the Senate, and press the Separatist objectives further.”</p><p>Lord Voldemort did not show even a flicker of surprise at the idea that there might be another party involved in their war from the Republic’s side – almost as if he thought it went without saying.</p><p>“I have certain ears within the Senate,” he said and Asajj let her eyes flicker to the obedient Black Sun members for a second. She hadn’t thought that they would accept a human within their ranks, let alone as a leader. Perhaps there was something to this new Sith that required further study.</p><p>“We would always welcome new ears,” she said and Lord Voldemort inclined his head very slightly.</p><p>“Indeed,” he said. “For myself, there is a… boy I seek.”</p><p>Asajj frowned slightly. A boy? She couldn’t quite imagine the reason – an apprentice perhaps? Or, and she grimaced internally, another purpose?</p><p>“Alive?” she enquired, and Lord Voldemort sniffed.</p><p>“Negotiable,” he said in dismissive tones. “I would prefer him alive, but dead would suffice if unavoidable.”</p><p>So not an apprentice then – and not for other purposes. Or at least, she acknowledged, not an apprentice as the primary concern.</p><p>“I see,” she said, trying to match him for mildness. “We are certainly open to surveying the relevant areas for… a person of interest.”</p><p>“However, you bring potential enemies,” Lord Voldemort prompted and for a second Asajj felt pinned under sharp eyes. She swallowed.</p><p>“No more than you might expect,” she tried, and Lord Voldemort studied her with inscrutable eyes.</p>
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